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■IHI1J1LII l> II 



Fr. 



Don Quixote de La Mane ha 



STORIES FROM 

DON QUIXOTE 



RETOLD BY 

H L. HAVELL B.A. 

FORMERLY SCHOLAR OF UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, OXFORD 

AUTHOR OF 

'STORIES FROM GREEK HISTORY" "STORIES FROM GREEK TRAGEDY' 

"STORIES FROM THE ^ENEID" "STORIES FROM THE ODYSSEY" 

"STORIES FROM THE ILIAD" ETC. 



WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

ERNEST MARRIOTT 



0h y what a noble mind is here overthrown!" 

Hamlet, Act Hi. Sc. i. 



NEW YORK 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 



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!;UBRARY of CONGRESS.! 
I wo Copies Beetles 

SEP 2 £308 
[class A ^c. ««* 

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COPYRIGHT, 1908 
BY THOMAS Y. CROWEU, & CO. 



I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME 
TO MY FRIEND 

W. A. SHEARER 

AT WHOSE SUGGESTION 
IT WAS WRITTEN 



Preface 

THERE is perhaps no book, among the world's 
great classics, which lends itself so readily to 
abridgement as " Don Quixote." In the First 
Part, down to the knight's return from the Sierra Morena, 
the narrative moves on swiftly and surely in one unclouded 
blaze of genius ; but after this prodigious effort the 
author's invention begins to flag, and the remaining 
chapters are padded out with a mass of episodes which 
have little or no connection with the story. The ad- 
mirable Second Part, though more carefully planned, 
and unencumbered by irrelevant matter, is certainly, on 
the whole, less brilliant and delightful than those wonder- 
ful thirty chapters which exhibit Cervantes in the heyday 
of his powers. Accordingly, it will be found that nearly 
half the present volume is occupied with the incidents 
which occurred before Don Quixote's second visit to 
the "enchanted castle." The digressions are omitted 
altogether, and the Second Part, which, with all its varied 
excellences, is too long for the patience of most readers, 
has been greatly curtailed. 

In studying the Spanish text, I have constantly con- 
sulted the English translation and notes of Mr Henry 



viii Stories from Don Quixote 

Edward Watts, the Spanish Commentary of Clemencin, 
the masterly German version by Braunfels, and the Tesoro 
de la Lengua Castellana of Covarrubias. I can only 
hope that I shall have succeeded in communicating to 
my readers some portion at least of the pleasure and in- 
struction which I have derived from my long and intimate 
converse with the mighty Spaniard. 

The materials for the brief biographical sketch given 
in the introduction are drawn from the " Life of Cervantes " 
by Mr Theodore Watts. For the critical views expressed, 
I myself am alone responsible. 

My best thanks are due to Mr Fred. E. Bumby, B.A., 
Lecturer in Anglo-Saxon and Spanish at the University 
College, Nottingham, who has read through the proofs, 
and made several valuable suggestions. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction ...... xiii 

Don Quixote resolves to turn Knight-Errant . i 

How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight . . 8 

The Adventures of Don Quixote after leaving 

the Inn ...... 20 

The Burning of the Books of Chivalry . . 29 

Don Quixote and Sancho . . . -33 

The Battle of the Windmills . . -37 

Don Quixote's Duel with the Valiant Biscayan . 41 

Discourse, grave and gay, between Don Quixote 

and his Squire ..... 48 

Don Quixote and the Carriers . . .54 

The Great Battle with the Army of the East . 59 

The Helmet of Mambrino . . . .69 

Don Quixote and the Convicts . . .76 



x Stories from Don Quixote 

Don Quixote does penance in the Sierra Morena 

Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 

Further Adventures at the Inn 

Don Quixote visits Toboso 

The Knight of the Mirrors . 

Don Quixote's Adventure with the Lions 

The Wedding of Camacho 

The Adventure of the Enchanted Bark 

Don Quixote becomes the Guest of a Duke 

Sancho and His Isle .... 

Don Quixote's Last Battle 

At Rest ...... 

Pronouncing List of Names . 



90 

105 
132 

144 

1S6 
166 
179 
184 

202 

2I 5 

223 

231 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Don Quixote de la Mancha . . . Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"He began to imagine that these wild inventions 

were sober reality " .... 4 

Don Quixote is Knighted by the Innkeeper . 18 

"He charged full gallop at the nearest mill" . 38 

"He saw his squire rising and falling in the air 

like a shuttlecock" . . . 60 

" he lowered his lance and charged down the hill " 64 

" The two adventurers took to the road again " . 74 

Don Quixote and the Wine-skins . . .110 

"He was left suspended" . . . .124 

" At' midnight, wearing masks and strange costumes, 

they entered the room" . . . .128 

"The growing light disclosed to him an object of 



terror ' 



. 150 

xi 



xii Stories from Don Quixote 



PAGE 



"the lion paid no attention to this bluster" . 164 

"'If I HAVE PERMISSION I COULD TELL a good story,' 

said Sancho" . . . . .188 

"sancho flung his arms round don quixote " . 1 98 
" ' you must not touch them,' answered the physician " 206 
The Death of Don Quixote . . . .228 



Introduction 

i 

THE great author of " Don Quixote " was born at 
Alcald de Henares, a town lying twenty miles 
east of Madrid, and was baptised under the 
name of Miguel de Cervantes, Oct. 9, 1547. His father 
held the rank of Hidalgo, the ordinary title of the smaller 
Spanish gentry. He received a fair education, and must 
have become a tolerable Latin scholar, as his writings 
show a considerable knowledge of the Roman poets, and 
a really remarkable familiarity with the works of Virgil. 
From early years he was, as he informs us himself, a 
voracious reader, eagerly scanning every morsel of litera- 
ture which came in his way, even to the printed scraps 
of paper picked up in the streets. Above all he obtained 
a profound acquaintance with the romantic poetry of 
Italy and Spain, and with those romances of chivalry 
which were destined to become the butt of his satirical 
genius. 

In his twenty-first year Cervantes went to Italy in the 
train of the Papal Legate, who had come on a visit of 
condolence to the Spanish Court. Two years after we 
find him serving as a private in a regiment of Spanish 
Infantry ; and the most remarkable fact in his military 
career was the part which he played in the great battle 



xiv Stories from Don Quixote 

of Lepanto, where he fought like a hero and received the 
wound which permanently crippled his left hand. After 
some years of service Cervantes obtained leave of absence 
and started for Spain ; but on the voyage his ship was 
taken by Algerine corsairs, and he was carried as a 
captive to Algiers. During the five years of his captivity 
he made repeated attempts to escape, and by his serene 
patience and noble courage acquired an extraordinary 
ascendency among his fellow- prisoners, and even among 
his brutal masters. He was ransomed in 1580, and re- 
turned, broken in health, and ruined in fortune, to Spain. 

At that time there were but two avenues to success for 
a Spaniard — the army and the Church. The mind of 
Cervantes was essentially secular, and he had none of 
that suppleness of character which is necessary to the 
man who would use the livery of the cleric as a cloak 
for worldly ambition. Accordingly, after a further period 
of military service, which led to no improvement in his 
prospects, he was driven into that last resource of the 
destitute, the profession of literature. The publication 
of his Galatea, a pastoral romance, in 1584, gained him 
some distinction but little profit. And then, " having no 
money and no prospects," he " naturally, married." 1 
Next year we find him settled in Madrid, resolved to 
conquer the world by his pen. 

Cervantes obtained some reputation as a playwright, 
and his Numancia is ranked by competent judges among 
the noblest examples of dramatic poetry. But the 
immense fame and portentous fertility of Lope de Vega 
at that time allowed of no rivalry on the Spanish stage ; 
and after four years of bitter struggle Cervantes found 

1 Leslie Stephen, "Life of Johnson." 



Introduction xv 

himself compelled to adopt some other means of liveli- 
hood. By the interest of his friends he obtained the post 
of commissary, and removed with his family to Seville. 
His duty was to purchase stores for the fleets and 
armaments of the Indies, and for some years this office 
was combined with that of tax-collector. 

We must pass rapidly over the dark story of Cervantes' 
life, and come to the publication of the one work which 
has made his name immortal. The first part of " Don 
Quixote" was published at Madrid in 1605, an d at once 
made the author's name famous throughout Spain. The 
learned and polite affected to sneer at the book as an 
outrage on good manners and good taste ; but the general 
heart of the nation was taken by storm, and " Don 
Quixote," from its first appearance, became the one great 
national book of Spain. 

Of " empty praise," to use Pope's expression, Cervantes 
had now enough, and more than enough ; but the " solid 
pudding " was as hard to come by as ever. Somehow or 
other he managed to live, but there is good reason for 
believing that even now, in the prime and glory of his 
genius, he was sometimes actually in want of bread. 
Still he wrote on, and much of his ripest and finest 
work is the fruit of his later years. The Second Part of 
"Don Quixote" was published in 161 5, and obtained a 
success equal to that of the First Part. It was the child 
of his old age ; and in the next year, on the twenty-third 
of April, he died. 

Thus, in poverty, in sickness, in mean and uncongenial 
surroundings, passed the sixty-nine years of mortal ex- 
istence which were allotted to Spain's noblest son. It is 
at once the brightest and the darkest chapter in all the 



xvi Stories from Don Quixote 

tragic annals of literary history ; and those who fret and 
chafe in the belief that their little talents are neglected 
may surely learn patience and constancy when they reflect 
that this supreme master of comedy, who has filled the 
world with the sunshine of his mirth, and enriched us 
with the choice fruits of his wisdom, lived all his days 
in an unequal struggle against adverse destiny, in want of 
the means of common decency and comfort, and In that 
want of generous recognition among his intellectual peers, 
which is the sorest privation to a man of sensibility and 
genius. 

II 

The immediate purpose of Cervantes in writing " Don 
Quixote" was to bring into contempt the romances of 
chivalry, which then enjoyed an immense popularity 
among all classes in Spain. Some account of these 
monstrous fictions will be found in different parts of 
the present volume ; 1 and there is ample evidence to 
prove that the evil against which Cervantes was con- 
tending was real and great, contributing in no small 
measure to the depravation ot the national character. 
The saying of a famous statesman, " give me the making 
of a people's songs, and let who will make their laws," 
conveys an important truth, which may be extended to 
every form of popular literature. Millions of readers 
derive their standard of conduct and character from 
poems and plays, and above all from novels ; and it is 
essential to the moral health of a nation that the tone of 
such books should be pure, manly, and wholesome. The 

1 See especially pp. 3-4. 



Introduction xvii 

morals of those swaggering heroes against whom Cervantes 
directed his attack were generally extremely loose ; and, 
what was a hardly lesser evil, the perusal of such books 
had corrupted the popular imagination, and destroyed all 
relish for what was truly grand and heroic in history and 
literature. 

How completely Cervantes succeeded in his purpose 
is sufficiently proved by the fact that from the date of the 
publication of " Don Quixote " not a single new edition of 
any book of chivalry appeared in Spain. If this had 
been all that Cervantes accomplished, the feat would have 
been without a parallel in the history of literature. But 
this is in fact the least part of his achievement, and we 
have now to consider briefly those qualities of his work 
which make it an everlasting possession for all mankind. 
First, then, he has created two types of character which 
gather into one compass the whole sum of human 
nature, — the natural man, as represented by Sancho, and 
the spiritual man, as embodied in Don Quixote. Secondly, 
he has given us a gallery of pictures, illustrating the whole 
contemporary life of Spain. Thirdly, he has fixed once 
for all the character of prose fiction, the most important 
literary creation of modern times. And, fourthly, he has 
given matter for innocent laughter and gaiety to all ages 
and all nations. 

There could be no greater error in criticism than to 
suppose that Cervantes is a mere jester, with his tongue 
continually in his cheek. A gigantic jest, extended over 
two thick volumes, would be an outrage on good taste and 
good feeling. Loud laughter soon palls, and excessive 
mirth always brings its own retribution, like the morning 
fumes of a midnight debauch. He who would reach the 



xviii Stories from Don Quixote 

deeper springs of thought and feeling needs some more 
potent divining-rod than the fool's bauble. 

There comes a time in the life of every great nation 
when the various currents of thought and sentiment, which 
have hitherto been kept separate, or have only approached 
occasionally, are united into one channel. Henceforth 
the simpler forms of literature, — pure epic, pure comedy, or 
pure tragedy, — are no longer an adequate medium for the 
complex colours, and the subtle blending of light and 
shadow, which belong to such an epoch of the national 
mind. The primitive homespun texture of the popular 
faith and popular character has become interwoven with a 
thousand threads of infinite subtlety and variety, and a 
new instrument is required to give expression to these 
shifting moods and conflicting humours. This instrument 
is found in the development of a new species of comedy, 
in which laughter and tears, humour and pathos, grave 
banter and philosophic depth, are blended into one 
mysterious essence. Only minds of the largest grasp 
and the deepest insight can handle this wonderful weapon 
with perfect mastery and unerring touch. 

We may go further, and say that once only in all the 
ages have the different elements of comedy been blended 
into full and faultless harmony, and that this miracle was 
performed by Cervantes. In Aristophanes we have a 
great example of soaring imagination combined with 
satiric force ; but in him the two aspects of his theme are 
held apart by the technical barrier which divides the 
dialogue from the chorus. In Shakespeare the streams 
of tragedy and comedy run side by side, — but they 
seldom mingle their waters together. If we turn to the 
masters of pure satire, we shall find the contrast still 



Introduction xix 

greater. A Juvenal hacks and mangles his victims, and 
in his moral indignation there is something of a fanatic 
howl. A Swift tramples on human nature with the 
malignancy of a fiend. A Byron, at war with himself 
and with the world, fills our ears with mirthless laughter. 
But in Cervantes there is the healing faith, the deep 
charity and large humanity, which raise satire into a 
saving and creating power. Here is neither the blighting 
sneer of Swift, nor the Puckish mockery of Heine, but the 
bland, compassionate smile of one who has read human 
nature as a whole, and knows it in all its littleness, and 
in all its greatness. Something of the same quality may 
be found in our own Chaucer, who in his broad tolerance 
and exquisite urbanity is next of kin to the great Spanish 
master. 



Stories from Don Quixote 

Don Quixote resolves to turn 
Knight-Errant 

i 

THE scene is laid in a village of La Mancha, a 
high and arid district of Central Spain ; and 
the time is towards the close of the sixteenth 
century. On the outskirts of the village there stood at 
the time mentioned a house of modest size, adjoining a 
little farm, the property of a retired gentleman, whose 
real name was Quisada or Quijada, 1 but who is now 
known to all mankind by the immortal title of Don 
Quixote. How he came to alter his name we shall see 
presently. 

On a hot summer afternoon this worthy gentleman was 
sitting in a small upper room, which served him as a study, 
absorbed in the contents of a huge folio volume, which 
lay open on the table before him. Other volumes, of 
like bulky proportions, were piled up on chairs or strewn 
on the floor around him. The reader was a man of some 
fifty years of age, tall and spare of figure, and with high, 
stern features of the severest Spanish type. In his eyes, 

1 Quijada means jaw, so that Don Quijada is equivalent to "Sir Lantern 
Jaws." 



2 Stories from Don Quixote 

when from time to time he paused in his reading and 
gazed absently before him, there was a look of wild 
abstraction, as of one who lives in a world of dreams and 
shadows. One hand, with bony, nervous fingers, rested 
on the open page ; with the other he grasped his sword, 
which lay sheathed on his lap. 

No sound disturbs the sultry stillness of the chamber, 
save only the droning of an imprisoned bee, and the 
rustling of paper when the eager student turns a leaf. 
Deeper and deeper grows his absorption : his eyes seem 
to devour the lines, and he clutches his hair with both 
hands, as if he would tear it out by the roots. At last, 
overpowered by a frenzied impulse, he leaps from his 
seat, and plucking his sword from the scabbard, begins 
cutting and thrusting at some invisible object, shouting 
in a voice of thunder : " Unhand the maiden, foul caitiff ! 
Give place, I say, and let the princess go ! What, wilt 
thou face me, vile robber ? Have at thee, then, and take 
the wages of thy villainy/' As he uttered the last words 
he aimed a tremendous thrust at his visionary opponent, 
and narrowly escaped transfixing the comely person of a 
young lady, who at this very moment entered the room, 
with signs of haste and alarm. Behind her, in the dimly- 
lighted passage, appeared the portly figure of an elderly 
dame, who was proclaimed, by the bunch of keys which 
hung at her girdle, to be the gentleman's housekeeper. 

" Dear uncle, what ails thee ? " said the young lady, 
gazing with pity and wonder at the poor distracted man, 
who stood arrested in his last attitude, with rolling eyes, 
and hair in wild disorder, while great beads of sweat poured 
down his face. But he, whose mind was still soaring in 
the regions of high romance, at once converted his niece 



Don Quixote's resolve 3 

into a rescued princess, saved from violence by his prowess ; 
and, lowering his blade, and dropping gracefully on one 
knee, he raised her hand to his lips, and said : " Fear 
nothing, gentle lady ! There lies thine enemy in his gore ; " 
and he pointed to a table which had been overset in one 
of his wild rushes, carrying with it an inkstand, the con- 
tents of which were now trickling in a black stream across 
the uncarpeted boards. 

His niece was accustomed to the strange fits of her 
eccentric relative, and, humouring his fancy, she answered : 
" Thou hast done well, and I thank thee. But sit down 
now 7 , and rest awhile after thy toils ; and I will bring thee 
something to drink/' With that she led him to a couch 
and left the room, taking the housekeeper with her. In a 
few moments she returned, bearing a great pitcher of cold 
water. 

" 'Tis a most rare elixir," said he, after taking a deep 
draught, " prepared by the great enchanter Alquife, and of 
a magic potency/' Then, being exhausted by his violent 
exertions of body and mind, he stretched himself on the 
couch, and soon sank into a quiet sleep. 



II 

The extraordinary scene which has just been described 
was only one among many which had occurred during 
several months, down to the time when our story begins ; 
and we must now go back a little, and give some account 
of our hero's habits and studies, which ended by bringing 
him to so desperate a state. At that time by far the most 
popular form of light literature was the Romances of 



4 Stories from Don Quixote 

Chivalry, — huge interminable fictions, filled with the most 
extravagant visions that ever visited the slumbers of a 
mad poet. Merely to unravel the story of one of these 
gigantic romances is a task which would tax the strongest 
brain. They dealt with the adventures of Knights-Errant, 
who wandered about the earth redressing grievances and 
succouring the oppressed. Those who venture into these 
vast jungles of romance are occasionally rewarded by 
passages of great sweetness,, nobility, and charm ; but the 
modern reader soon grows weary of enchanted forests, 
haunted by giants, dragons, and other impossible monsters, 
of deserts where despairing lovers roam haggard and 
forlorn, of dwarfs, goblins, wizards, and all the wild and 
grotesque creations of the mediaeval fancy. 

But in the times of which we are writing the passion 
for Books of Chivalry rose to such a height that it 
became a serious public evil. In Spain it reached its 
climax ; and our humble gentleman of La Mancha is 
only an extreme example of the effect which such studies 
produced on the national mind. Being bitten by the craze 
for chivalrous fiction, he gradually forsook all the healthy 
pursuits of a country life, and gave himself up entirely to 
reading such books as Amadis of Gaul, Palmerin of 
England, and Belianis of Greece ; and his infatuation 
reached such a point that he sold several acres of good 
arable land to provide himself with funds for the purchase 
of those ponderous folios with which we saw him sur- 
rounded when he was first introduced to our notice. 
From dawn till eve he pored over his darling books, and 
sometimes passed whole nights in the same pursuit, until 
at last, having crammed his brain with this perilous stuff, 
he began to imagine that these wild inventions were sober 




He began to imagine that these wild inventions were sober reality " 



Don Quixote's resolve 5 

reality. From this delusion there was but one step to the 
belief that he himself was a principal actor in the adven- 
tures of which he read ; and when the fit was on him, he 
would take his sword, and engage in single combat with 
the creatures of his brain, stamping his feet, and alarming 
the household with his cries. 

At first his frenzy was intermittent, and each attack 
was followed by a lucid interval ; but finally he lost his 
wits altogether, and came to the insane resolution of turn- 
ing knight-errant, and going out into the world as the 
redresser of wrongs and the champion of the innocent. 
His intention once formed, he at once took steps to carry 
it into effect. From a dark corner of the house he 
brought out an old suit of armour, which had been lying 
neglected for generations, and was now covered with mould 
and eaten with rust. He cleaned the pieces, and repaired 
them as well as he could ; and observing that the helmet 
was a simple morion, wanting a protection for the face, 
he made a vizor of pasteboard to supply the defect. 
Then, wishing to prove the strength of his vizor, he drew 
his sword, and with one stroke destroyed what had cost 
him the labour of a week. He was considerably shocked 
by the ease with which he had demolished his handiwork ; 
but having made a second vizor, and strengthened it with 
bars of iron, he did not choose to try any further experi- 
ments, but accepted the helmet, thus fortified, as the finest 
headpiece in the world. 

Then he paid a visit to his hack, and though the poor 
beast was a mere living skeleton, broken-winded, and with 
his feet full of sandcracks, to his master's eyes he seemed 
a nobler steed than Bucephalus, or Bavieca, the famous 
charger of the Cid. It was evident that such a noble 



6 Stories from Don Quixote 

steed, who was to carry a warrior so famous, must have 
a name by which all the world might know him ; and 
accordingly, after deliberating for four days, and passing 
in review a multitude of titles, he determined to call the 
beast Rozinante, signifying by that name that he had 
been a hack before} and that he was now before all hacks. 

Having settled this weighty question, he next began 
to consider what name he should assume himself, being 
by no means satisfied with- that which he had received 
from his father. Eight days were passed in debating a 
matter so important to himself and to posterity, and at 
the end of that time he resolved to call himself Don 
Quixote. 2 But, remembering that Amadis, not contented 
with his simple name, had taken the additional title of 
Amadis of Gaul, 3 he determined, in imitation of that 
illustrious hero, his model and teacher in all things, to 
style himself Don Quixote de La Mancha, and thereby 
confer immortal honour on the land of his birth. 

Nothing now remained but to choose a lady to be the 
mistress of his affections, and the load-star of his life ; for, 
as he wisely reflected, a knight-errant without a lady-love 
was like a tree without fruit, or a body without a soul. 
" If," he said to himself, " I should encounter some giant, 
as commonly happens to knights-errant, and cut him in 
twain, or otherwise vanquish him and make him my 
prisoner, will it not be well to have some lady to whom 
I may send him as a gift, so that he may enter the pre- 
sence of my sweet mistress, and bow the knee before her, 
saying, in a humble and submissive voice : ' Lady, I am 

1 Hack before is a literal translation of Rozin-ante. 

2 Quixote, or Quijote, means "taslet," the armour which protects the 
thigh. 3 Wales. 



Don Quixote's resolve 7 

the giant Caraculiambro, vanquished in single combat by 
the knight Don Quixote de La Mancha, whose praise no 
tongue can tell* and I have been commanded by him to 
present myself to your grace, that you may dispose of me 
as your Highness pleases! " 

Our good knight was highly pleased with his own 
eloquence, and still more so when he had made choice of 
his lady. In a neighbouring village there was a young 
girl, employed on a farm, with whom he had at one time 
been in love, though he had never brought himself to 
declare his passion. Her name was Aldonza Lorenzo, and 
her he resolved to constitute the queen of his heart, hav- 
ing conferred on her the sounding title of Dulcinea del 
Toboso, or " The Sweet Lady of Toboso," the village 
where she was born. 



How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 

i 

" f ■ ^HE world is waiting for me," murmured our 
enthusiast, leaping from his bed at the first 
JL peep of dawn, and arming himself from head 
to foot. Then treading softly, so as not to alarm the 
household, he went to the stable, saddled Rozinante, 
and leading him out through a back gate of the 
yard, mounted, and rode forth into the plain, hugely 
delighted to find himself fairly started on his great 
enterprise. 

But hardly had he reached the open country when the 
terrible thought occurred to him, that he had not been 
dubbed a knight, and by the laws of chivalry was not entitled 
to engage in combat with anyone who bore that rank, and 
further, even if he were already a knight, he was obliged 
as a novice to wear plain armour, without device of 
any kind. So much was he perturbed by these re- 
flections that he was within an ace of giving up his whole 
design, and would have done so, but for a happy inspira- 
tion, which saved mankind from so dire a calamity. 
Many of the heroes of his books of chivalry had got 
themselves dubbed knight by the first person whom they 
met and remembering this, he resolved to follow their 



How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 9 

example. And as to his armour, he would rub and 
polish it until it was whiter than ermine. 

His scruples thus removed, he continued his journey, 
leaving his good steed to choose what direction he pleased, 
as was the fashion with knights-errant when they set out 
on their adventures. Thus pacing along, and dream- 
ing of mighty deeds, he gave vent to his feelings in the 
following rhapsody : " What a theme for the eloquence 
of some great master of style — the feats of high emprise 
wrought by the valiant arm of Don Quixote de la 
Mancha ! Happy the pen which shall describe them, 
happy the age which shall read the wondrous tale ! And 
thou, brave steed, shalt have thy part in the honour 
which is done to thy master, when poet and sculptor and 
painter shall vie with one another in raising an eternal 
monument to his fame." 

Then recalling his part as an afflicted lover, he began 
to mourn his hard lot in soft and plaintive tones : " O 
lady Dulcinea, queen of this captive heart ! Why hast 
thou withdrawn from me the light of thy countenance, 
and banished thy faithful servant from thy presence ? 
Shorten, I implore thee, the term of my penance, and 
leave me not to wither in solitude and despair." 

Lost in these sublime and melancholy thoughts he rode 
slowly on from hour to hour, until the sun became so 
hot that it was enough to melt his brains, if he had 
possessed any. All that day he continued his journey 
without meeting with any adventure, which vexed him 
sorely, for he was eager to encounter some foeman worthy 
of his steel. Evening came on, and both he and his 
hack were ready to drop with hunger and fatigue, when, 
looking about him in search of some castle — or some 
c 



io Stories from Don Quixote 

hovel — where he might find shelter and refreshment, he 
saw, not far from the roadside, a small inn, and, setting 
spurs to Rozinante, rode up to the door at a hobbling 
canter, just as night was falling. 

The inn was of the poorest and meanest description, 
frequented by muleteers and other rude wayfarers ; but 
to his perverted fancy it seemed a turreted castle, with 
battlements of silver, drawbridge, and moat, and all that 
belonged to a feudal fortress. Before the door were 
standing two women, vagabonds of the lowest class, who 
were travelling in the company of certain mule-drivers ; 
but for him they were instantly transformed into a pair 
of high-born maidens taking the air before the castle 
gate. 

To complete his illusion, just at this moment a swine- 
herd, who was collecting his drove from a neighbouring 
stubble field, sounded a few notes on his horn. This Don 
Quixote took for a signal which had been given by some 
dwarf from the ramparts, to inform the inmates of the 
castle of his approach ; and so, with huge satisfaction, he 
lifted his pasteboard vizor, and discovering his haggard 
and dusty features, thus addressed the women, who were 
eyeing him with looks of no small alarm, and evidently 
preparing to retreat : " Fly not, gracious ladies, neither 
wrong me by dreaming that ye have aught to fear from 
me, for the order of chivalry which I profess suffers not 
that I should do harm to any, least of all to maidens of 
lofty lineage, such as I perceive you to be." 

Hearing themselves accosted by that extraordinary 
figure in language to which they were so little used, the 
women could not restrain their mirth, but laughed so long 
and loud that Don Quixote began to be vexed, and said, 



How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 1 1 

in a tone of grave rebuke, " Beauty and discourtesy are 
ill-matched together, and unseemly is the laugh which 
folly breeds in a vacant mind. Take not my words 
amiss, for I mean no offence, but am ready to serve you 
with heart and hand." 

At this dignified reproof the damsels only laughed 
louder than before, and there is no saying what might 
have come of it if the innkeeper, who appeared at this 
moment, had not undertaken the office of peacemaker, for 
which he was well fitted, being a fat, good-humoured 
fellow, who loved a quiet life. At first, when he saw that 
fantastic warrior on his spectral steed, he was much 
inclined to join the girls in their noisy merriment. But 
finding some ground for alarm in so many engines of 
war, he contrived to swallow his laughter, and going up 
to Don Quixote, said to him civilly enough : " If your 
honour is in search of quarters for the night, you will find 
in this inn all that you require, excepting a bed, which is 
not to be had here." 

Finding the governor of the fortress — that is to say, 
the landlord of the inn — so obsequious, Don Quixote 
replied cheerfully : " Sir Castellan, you will not find me 
hard to please, for 

'Arms are all my rich array, 
My repose to fight alway.'" 

" If that be your case, then," answered the innkeeper, 
humouring his strange guest, " 'tis plain that 

'Your couch is the field, your pillow a shield, 
Your slumber a vigil from dusk until day ? ; 

and therefore you may dismount, in the full assurance of 



12 Stories from Don Quixote 

finding under my humble roof divers good reasons for 
keeping awake for a twelvemonth, should such be your 
desire." 

As he said this, he went and held the stirrup for Don 
Quixote, who was so weak from his long fast that it cost 
him much pain and effort to dismount. " I commend to 
thy especial care this my good steed," said he, as soon as 
he had found his feet : " he is the rarest piece of horse- 
flesh that ever lived by bread" 

The innkeeper bestowed but one glance on poor Rozin- 
ante, and finding little to admire in him, he thrust him 
hastily into the stable, and came back to attend to the 
wants of his guest. Meanwhile Don Quixote submitted 
to be disarmed by the young women, who had now made 
their peace. Having removed his body armour, they tried 
to relieve him of his helmet, which was attached to his 
neck by green ribbons. Being unable to loose the knots, 
they proposed to cut the ribbons, but as he would not 
allow them to do this, he was obliged to keep his helmet 
on all that night, which made him the strangest and most 
diverting object that could be imagined. 

While the ladies were thus employed, our brave adven- 
turer entertained them with a strain of high-flown gallantry, 
seasoned with scraps from the old ballads and romances 
which he had read. Not understanding a word of what 
he said, they simply asked him, when they had finished, 
if he wanted anything to eat. " A slight refection would 
not be illtimed," answered Don Quixote, and learning 
that there was nothing to be had but a " little trout," he 
bade them bring it with all speed. " Many little trouts," 
he added jestingly, " will serve my turn as well as one big 
one. Only let it be brought at once, for I begin to be 



How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 13 

conscious of a wondrous void within the compass of my 
sword-belt." 

The " little trout " proved to be neither more nor less 
than a dish of stockfish, Poor John, or in plain English, 
salted cod, and that of the rankest. An odour the reverse 
of savoury heralded its approach, and Don Quixote sat 
down at the table, which had been set, for coolness, before 
the door, and applied himself to his lenten fare. But being 
much incommoded by his helmet, he could not find the 
way to his mouth, and remained staring in dismay at the 
reeking mess, and the filthy black bread which accompanied 
it, until one of the damsels, perceiving his distress, came 
to his relief, and fed him with small morsels, which she 
deftly conveyed to their proper destination through the 
opening of his helmet. To give him drink was a harder 
matter, but this problem was solved with great ingenuity 
by the landlord, who brought a hollow cane, and placing 
one end in his mouth, poured the wine in at the other. 

And so in solemn silence, broken now and then by the 
stifled laughter of the onlookers, the strange meal pro- 
ceeded ; and when it was nearly at an end, a clownish 
fellow passed by, blowing on a rustic pipe. But for Don 
Quixote, who had transformed the inn into a castle, the 
fat publican into a powerful governor, and the vagabond 
damsels into high-born ladies, it was an easy matter to 
find in those rude notes a strain of rare music, provided 
for his delectation while he sat at table ; and he concluded 
his repast in a state of high satisfaction with his first day's 
adventures. 



14 Stories from Don Quixote 

II 

But one uncomfortable thought chilled the heat of his 
enthusiasm— he had not yet been dubbed a knight, and 
was therefore still unqualified to engage in any chivalrous 
adventure. Accordingly, as soon as he had finished his 
scanty and sordid meal, he took the landlord aside, and 
shutting himself up with him in the stable and falling on 
his knees before him, said : " I will never rise from this 
posture, valiant knight, until thou hast granted me of thy 
courtesy the favour which I desire, and which shall redound 
to thine honour and to the benefit of the human race." 

Dumbfoundered at the strange attitude, and still stranger 
language of his guest, the landlord stared at him, not 
knowing what to do or say. He begged him to rise, but 
Don Quixote steadily refused, so that at last he was 
obliged to give the promise required. 

" 1 expected no less from your High Mightiness," 
answered Don Quixote. " And now hear what I desire : 
to-morrow at dawn you shall dub me knight, and to that 
end I will this night keep the vigil of arms in the chapel 
of your castle, so that I may be ready to receive the 
order of chivalry in the morning, and forthwith set out 
on the path of toil and glory which awaits those who 
follow the perilous profession of knight-errantry." 

By this time the landlord began to perceive that Don 
Quixote was not right in his wits, and being somewhat 
of a wag he resolved to make matter for mirth by 
humouring his whim ; and so he replied that such ambi- 
tion was most laudable, and just what he would have 
looked for in a gentleman of his gallant presence. He 



How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 15 

had himself, he said, been a cavalier of fortune in his 
youth — which in a certain sense was true, for he had 
been a notorious thief and rogue, known to every magis- 
trate in Spain — and now, in his declining years, he was 
living in the retirement of his castle, where his chief 
pleasure was to entertain wandering knights ; which, 
being interpreted, meant that he was a rascally landlord, 
and grew fat by cheating the unfortunate travellers who 
stayed at his inn. 

Then he went on to say that, with regard to the vigil 
of arms, it could be held in the courtyard of the castle, 
as the chapel had been pulled down to make place for 
a new one. " And to-morrow," he concluded, " you shall 
be dubbed a knight — a full knight, and a perfect knight, 
so that none shall be more so in all the world." 

Having thanked the landlord for his kindness, and 
promised to obey him, as his adoptive father, in all 
things, Don Quixote at once prepared to perform the 
vigil of arms. Collecting his armour, he laid the several 
pieces in a horse-trough, which stood in the centre of 
the inn-yard, and then, taking his shield on his arm, 
and grasping his lance, he began to pace up and down 
with high-bred dignity before the trough. 

The landlord had lost no time in informing those who 
were staying at the inn of the mad freaks of his guest, 
and a little crowd was gathered to watch his proceed- 
ings from a distance, which they were the better able 
to do as the moon was shining with unusual brightness. 
Sometimes they saw him stalking to and fro, with serene 
composure, and sometimes he would pause in his march, 
and stand for a good while leaning on his lance, and 
scanning his armour with a fixed and earnest gaze. 



1 6 Stories from Don Quixote 

While this was going on, one of the mule-drivers took it 
into his head to water his team, and approaching the horse- 
trough prepared to remove Don Quixote's armour, which 
was in his way. Perceiving his intention, Don Quixote 
cried to him in a loud voice, saying : " O thou, whoever 
thou art, audacious knight, who drawest near to touch 
the armour of the bravest champion that ever girt on 
sword, look what thou doest, and touch it not, if 
thou wouldst not pay for thy rashness with thy 
life ! " 

The valiant defiance was thrown away on the muleteer, 
whose thick head needed other arguments, and taking 
the armour by the straps, he flung it a good way from 
him. Which when Don Quixote saw, he raised his eyes 
to heaven, and fixing his thoughts (as may be supposed) 
on his lady Dulcinea, he exclaimed : " Shine on me, light 
of my life, now, when the first insult is offered to my 
devoted heart ! Let not thy countenance and favour 
desert me in this, my first adventure." 

As he put up this pious appeal he let go his shield, 
and lifting his lance in both hands, brought it down with 
such force on the muleteer's head that he fell senseless 
to the ground ; and if the blow had been followed by 
another, he would have needed no physician to cure him. 
Having done this, Don Quixote collected his armour, 
and began pacing up and down again, with the same 
tranquillity as before. 

Presently another muleteer, knowing nothing of what 
had happened, came up to the trough with the same 
intention as the first, and was about to lay hands on 
the armour, when Don Quixote, without uttering a word, 
or asking favour of anyone, once more lifted his lance, 



How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 17 

and dealt the fellow two smart strokes, which made two 
cross gashes on his crown. 

Meanwhile the alarm had been raised in the house, 
and the whole troop of muleteers now came running to 
avenge their comrades. Seeing himself threatened by a 
general assault, Don Quixote drew his sword, and thrust- 
ing his arm into his shield cried : " Queen of Beauty, who 
givest power and might to this feeble heart, now let 
thine eyes be turned upon thy slave, who stands on the 
threshold of so great a peril." 

His words were answered by the muleteers with a 
shower of stones, which he kept off as well as he could 
with his shield. At the noise of the fray the innkeeper 
came puffing up, and called upon the muleteers to desist. 
" The man is mad," said he, " as I told you before, and 
the law cannot touch him, though he should kill you 
all." 

" Ha ! art thou there, base and recreant knight ? " 
shouted Don Quixote in a voice of thunder. " Is this 
thy hospitality to knights-errant ? 'Tis well for thee that 
I have not yet received the order of knighthood, or I 
would have paid thee home for this outrage. As to you, 
base and sordid pack, I care not for you a straw. Come 
one, come all, and take the wages of your folly and 
presumption." 

His tones were so threatening, and his aspect was so 
formidable, that he struck terror into the hearts of his 
assailants, who drew back, and left off throwing stones ; 
and, after some further parley, he allowed them to carry 
off the wounded, and returned with unruffled dignity to 
his vigil of arms. 

The landlord was now thoroughly tired of his guest's 



1 8 Stories from Don Quixote 

wild antics, and, resolving to make an end of the business, 
lest worse should come of it, he went up to Don Quixote, 
and asked pardon for the violence of that low-born 
rabble, who had acted, he said, without his knowledge, 
and had been properly chastised for their temerity. He 
added that the ceremony of conferring knighthood might 
be performed in any place, and that two hours sufficed 
for the vigil of arms, so that Don Quixote had fulfilled 
this part of his duty twice over, as he had now been 
watching for double that time. 

All this was firmly believed by Don Quixote, and 
he requested that he might be made a knight without 
further delay ; for if, he said, he were attacked again, after 
receiving the order of chivalry, he was determined not to 
leave a soul alive in the castle, excepting those to whom 
he might show mercy at the governor's desire. 

The landlord, whose anxiety was increased by this 
alarming threat, went and fetched a book in which he 
kept his accounts, and came back, attended by a boy who 
carried a stump of candle, and by the two damsels afore- 
said. Then, bidding Don Quixote to kneel before him, 
he began to murmur words from his book, in the tone of 
one who was saying his prayers, and in the midst of his 
reading he raised his hand and gave Don Quixote a smart 
blow on the neck, and then taking the sword laid it 
gently on his shoulder, muttering all the time between his 
teeth with the same air of devotion. Then he directed 
one of the ladies to gird on his sword, which she did with 
equal liveliness and discretion — and she had much need 
of the latter quality to prevent an explosion of laughter — ; 
however, the specimen which the new knight had just 
given of his prowess kept their merriment in check. 





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How Don Quixote was dubbed Knight 19 

When his spurs had been buckled on by the other 
damsel the ceremony was completed, and after some 
further compliments Don Quixote saddled Rozinante 
and rode forth, a new-made knight, ready to astonish 
the world with feats of arms and chivalry. The inn- 
keeper, who was glad to see the last of him, let him 
go without making any charge for what he had con- 
sumed. 



The Adventures of Don Quixote after 
leaving the Inn 

I 

ON leaving the inn Don Quixote turned his horse's 
steps homewards, being resolved to obtain a 
supply of money, and, above all, to provide him- 
self with a squire before seeking more distant scenes of 
adventure. The good Rozinante, as if conscious of his 
new dignity, trotted bravely forwards, and by daybreak they 
reached the outskirts of a small wood. Pacing gaily along 
the soft and dewy turf, with his heart full of pride and hope, 
suddenly Don Quixote heard faint cries of distress issuing 
from the thicket. " Blessed be heaven ! " he murmured 
to himself, ' c which thus gives me early occasion to fulfil 
the duties which I have taken on myself." And entering 
the wood he came upon a scene which filled him with 
noble wrath. A lad about fifteen years old, stripped to 
the waist, was bound to a tree, and he it was who ^Yas 
uttering those pitiful cries — and not without reason, for a 
stout fellow, who seemed by his appearance to be a 
farmer, was belabouring him vigorously with a leathern 
belt, and crying at every stroke : " Tongue still, and eyes 
alert ! " A mare stood tethered to a neighbouring tree, 
and a long lance, which the farmer carried when he rode 
abroad, leaned against the trunk. 



Adventures of Don Quixote 21 

Taking in these details at a glance, Don Quixote 
thrust his horse between the boor and his victim, crying, 
" What means this wanton cruelty, discourteous knight ? 
Mount your horse, and take your lance, and I will teach 
you how to behave to the weak and helpless." 

When he saw that armed figure towering with 
brandished lance above him, the clown thought his last 
hour was come, and answered in quaking tones ; " Sir 
Knight, this boy is my servant, who has charge of a flock 
of sheep belonging to me, and he is so idle and careless 
that every day one of them is lost, and when I chastise 
him he says that I do it out of meanness, to avoid paying 
him the wages which I owe him — and in this, as I am a 
true man, he lies." 

" Lies, sayest thou, base churl ? " 1 said Don Quixote. 
" By yonder sun, and by all the powers above us, I am 
minded to drive this lance through thy body ! Unbind 
him and pay him forthwith, or I will make an end of thee 
and annihilate thee on the spot!" 

The farmer did as he was bidden, and Don Quixote 
asked the boy how much his master owed him. " Nine 
months' wages at seven reals a month," answered he. 
" That makes sixty-three reals," said Don Quixote. " Pay 
him at once unless you choose to die for it." The farmer 
protested that it was not so much, for he had to deduct 
the price of three pairs of shoes which he had given the 
boy, and one real for blood-letting. " He has paid for 
both with his skin," replied Don Quixote. " Come, pay 
him, and make no more words about it." " I have not 
the money by me," said the man ; " but if Andres will 

1 Don Quixote feels his dignity insulted by the use of a coarse word in his 
presence. 



22 Stories from Don Quixote 

come home with me I will pay him to the last real." " I 
go home with him ! " cried the boy in evident terror : 
" Heaven forbid ! as soon as he finds himself alone with 
me, he will flay me like Saint Bartholomew." " You need 
not fear that," said Don Quixote ; " he shall give me his 
knightly word that he will pay you what he owes, and do 
you no harm." " But, sir, you are mistaken," said Andres 
earnestly. " This man is not a knight, but the rich 
farmer Haldudo, who lives at Quintanar." " He may still 
be a knight," answered Don Quixote, " for every man is the 
son of his own works." " Very true," said the farmer, with 
a grin. " Come with me, brother Andres, and I swear by 
all the orders of chivalry that I will pay you to the last 
real, with compound interest." 

" You may dispense with the interest," said Don 
Quixote, " but see that you pay him, or woe betide you ! 
I shall find you out, though you creep like a lizard into a 
crack in the wall, as sure as I am Don Quixote de la 
Mancha, the redresser of wrongs, and the defender of the 
oppressed." With that he set spurs to Rozinante, leaving 
the boy and his master together. As soon as he was 
well out of hearing, the farmer turned to Andres, and said 
with a meaning smile : " Come here, my son, that I may 
pay you your wages, as that redresser of wrongs ordered 
me to do." Saying this, he seized him by the arm, 
bound him to the tree again, and almost beat the life out 
of his body. When he was quite tired out, he unbound 
him, and said : " Now, go and find your valiant champion, 
and tell him how I have paid my debt to you." 



Adventures of Don Quixote 23 

II 

Meanwhile, Don Quixote pursued his way, in a state of 
high satisfaction with this auspicious prelude to his knight- 
errantry. " Happy art thou," he murmured to himself, 
"above all women on earth, Dulcinea del Toboso, fairest 
of the fair, since it has fallen to thy lot to have as thy 
subject and slave so valiant and renowned a knight as 
Don Quixote de la Mancha, who to-day, as all the world 
knows, has received the order of chivalry, and to-day has 
torn the scourge from a ruffian's hand, and saved a tender 
infant from outrage." 

Presently he came to a cross-road, and after hesitating 
a moment, he resolved to imitate his favourite heroes, and 
leave the direction to his steed, who immediately took the 
nearest way to his stable. After advancing about two 
leagues, our knight came in view of a great troop of 
people, who, as it afterwards turned out, were merchants 
of Toledo, on their way to Murcia to buy silk. There 
were six of them jogging comfortably along under their 
umbrellas, with four servants on horse-back, and three 
mule-drivers walking and leading their beasts. 

Here was a new opportunity, as Don Quixote thought, 
of displaying his knightly valour, so he settled himself 
firmly in his stirrups, grasped his lance, covered his 
breast with his shield, and stood waiting for the arrival of 
those knights-errant, — for such he judged them to be ; and 
when they were come within hearing, he raised his voice, 
and cried with an air of proud defiance : " Halt, every 
mother's son of you, and confess that in all the world 
there is no damsel more beautiful than the empress of 
La Mancha, the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso ! " 



2A Stories from Don Ouixote 

Hearing the strange words, and seeing the extravagant 
figure of him who uttered them, the merchants drew up, 
and one of them, who was of a waggish disposition, 
answered for the whole company, and said : " Sir Knight, 
we do not know the good lady of whom you speak ; let 
us see her, and if she is of such beauty as you describe, 
we will most gladly make the confession which you 
require." 

" If you were to see her," replied Don Ouixote, " you 
must needs be convinced that what I say is true, and 
that would be a poor triumph for me. No, on the faith 
of my word alone, you must believe it, confess it, assert 
it, swear to it, and maintain it ! If not, I defy you to 
battle, ve sons of lawlessness and arrogance ! Here I 
stand ready to receive you, whether ye come singly, as 
the rule of knighthood demands, or all together, as is the 
custom with churls like you." 

" Sir Knight," answered the merchant, " I entreat you 
in the name of all this noble company, that you constrain 
us not to lay perjury to our souls by swearing to a thing 
which we have neither seen nor heard. Show us, at least, 
some portrait of this lady, though it be no bigger than a 
grain of wheat, that our scruples may be satisfied. For, 
so strongly are we disposed in favour of the fair dame, 
that even if the picture should exhibit her squinting with 
one eye, and dropping brimstone and vermilion from the 
other, for all that we will vow and profess that she is as 
lovely as you say. 

" There drops not from her," shouted Don Ouixote, 
aflame with fury, " there drops not, I say, that which 
thou namest, but only sweet perfumes and pearly dew. 
Neither is she cross-eyed nor hunch-backed, but straight 



Adventures of Don Quixote 25 

and slender as a peak of Guadarrama. But ye shall 
pay for the monstrous blasphemy which ye have spoken 
against the angelic beauty of my lady and queen." 

With these words he levelled his lance, and hurled 
himself upon the speaker with such vigour and frenzy, 
that if Rozinante had not chanced to stumble and fall 
in mid career, the rash merchant would have paid dear 
for his jest. Down went Rozinante, and his master 
rolled over and over for some distance across the plain. 
Being brought up at last by a projecting rock, he made 
frantic efforts to rise, but was kept down by the weight 
of his armour, and lay plunging and kicking on his back, 
but ceased not for a moment to hurl threats and defiances 
at his laughing foes. " Fly not, ye cowards, ye dastards ! 
Wait awhile ! 'Tis not by my fault, but by the fault 
of my horse that I lie prostrate here." 

One of the mule-drivers, who was somewhat hot- 
tempered, was so provoked by the haughty language 
of the poor fallen knight, that he resolved to give him 
the answer on his ribs, and running up he snatched 
the lance from Don Quixote's hands, broke it in pieces, 
and taking one of them began to beat him with such 
goodwill that in spite of the armour he bruised him like 
wheat in a mill-hopper. And he found the exercise so 
much to his liking that he continued it until he had 
shivered every fragment of the broken lance into splinters. 
Nevertheless, he could not stop the mouth of our valiant 
knight, who during all that tempest of blows went on 
defying heaven and earth, and shouting menaces against 
those bandits, as he now supposed them to be. 

At length the mule-driver grew weary, and the whole 
party rode off, leaving the battered champion on the 



26 Stories from Don Quixote 

ground. When they were gone he made another attempt 
to rise. But if he failed when he was sound and whole, 
how much less could he do it now that he was almost 
hammered to pieces ! Notwithstanding, his heart was 
light and gay, for in his own fancy he was a hero of 
romance, lying covered with wounds on honour's field. 



til 

Two days had now passed since Don Quixote left his 
home, and his niece and his housekeeper were growing 
very anxious about him. More than once they had 
heard him declare his intention to turn knight-errant, 
and they began to fear that he had carried out his 
mad design. On the evening of the second day, a few 
hours after he had been so roughly handled by the 
muleteer, they called in the village priest, Pero Perez, 
and the barber, Master Nicholas, who were intimate 
friends of Don Quixote, and laid the case before them. 
The housekeeper grew eloquent in her denunciation of 
the Books of Chivalry, which, as she said, had ruined 
the finest brain in all La Mancha ; and the niece followed 
suit, describing her uncle's wild behaviour when he was 
excited by his romantic studies. 1 

" I take blame to myself," she said, when she had 
finished her story, " for not telling you before of my poor 
uncle's infatuation. If you had been informed in time, 
you might have saved him from the consequences of his 
folly, by burning those abominable books which have 
caused all the mischief." 

1 Chapter i. 



Adventures of Don Quixote 27 

At this moment they heard a loud voice calling 
outside the street door : " Open to Sir Baldwin and the 
Lord Marquis of Mantua, 1 who is brought to your gates 
grievously wounded." They made haste to unbar the 
door, and when it was opened they saw a strange sight : 
mounted on an ass, whose head was held by a labouring 
man of the village, sat Don Quixote, huddled together 
in a most uncavalier-like posture, his armour all battered, 
and his face begrimed with dirt. Hard by stood Rozi- 
nante, a woeful object, crooking his knees and drooping 
his head ; and tied in a bundle on his back were the 
splintered fragments of Don Quixote's lance. 

When they saw who it was, they gathered round him 
with eager questions and cries of welcome ; but he 
checked them with a gesture, and said : " Control your- 
selves, all of you ! I am grievously hurt, through the 
fault of my horse ; carry me to my bed, and if it be 
possible let some one go and fetch Urganda the 
wise woman, that she may examine and heal my 
wounds." 

" Alack-a-day ! " cried the housekeeper, lifting up her 
hands. " Did I not tell you, gentlemen, that I knew on 
which foot my master halted ? Come, dear sir, and we 
will cure you, without the help of Urgada or anyone 
else." And with many maledictions against the books 
of chivalry, which had done the kind gentleman so ill 
a turn, she assisted him to dismount, and amongst them 
they carried him to his room, took off his armour, and 
laid him on his bed. Then they enquired where he was 
hurt, and Don Quixote explained that he was bruised 
from head to foot, having been thrown from his horse 

1 The names are taken from old Spanish ballads. 



28 Stories from Don Quixote 

in an encounter with ten giants, the most outrageous 
and ferocious in the world. 

" Aha ! " said the priest, " so there are giants in the 
game ! By the rood, I will burn them to-morrow before 
nightfall." And having seen his friend settled in 
comfort, he went down to question the man who had 
brought him home. The honest fellow described how 
he had found Don Quixote by the road-side, half beaten 
to death, and reciting scraps .of old ballads and romances ; 
how he had set him, not without much difficulty, on his 
ass, and carried him to the village, and how the poor 
distracted gentleman had raved without ceasing all the 
way of knights and their loves, of governors, and castles, 
and captive princesses. This account confirmed the 
priest in the resolution which he carried into effect the 
next day. 



The Burning of the Books of Chivalry 

ON the following morning, while Don Quixote was 
still sleeping, the priest arrived with his friend 
the barber, and asked the niece for the key of 
the room where the books were kept. She gave them 
with a hearty goodwill, and they entered the room, fol- 
lowed by the housekeeper, and found there more than 
a hundred huge folio volumes, handsomely bound, and 
others of smaller size. No sooner had the housekeeper 
set eyes on the fatal books than she left the room in 
haste, and came back presently with a little pot of holy 
water. " Take it, your reverence," she said, handing the 
vessel to the priest, " and sprinkle the chamber, lest some 
enchanter, of the many contained in these books, should 
be here, and should lay his spells upon us, in revenge for 
that which we are about to do to him and his fellows." 

The housekeeper's simplicity made the priest laugh, and 
he told the barber to give him the books, one by one, that 
he might examine their .contents, and see if there were 
any which did not deserve the extreme penalty of fire. 

" They are all guilty," said the niece ; " let us throw 

them all out of the window, and burn them together in 

a great heap in the courtyard, or carry them into the 

paddock, and set fire to them there, that the smoke may 

not come into the house." The housekeeper agreed, being 

as impatient as her mistress for the massacre of those 

innocents ; but the priest demurred, preferring at least to 

29 



30 Stories from Don Quixote 

read the titles before passing sentence. So he took the 
volume which the barber held out to him, and glancing at 
the gilded letters on the back, said : " There is something 
mysterious in this ! The very first book which you have 
taken up is the notorious " Amadis of Gaul." which, as 
I have heard, was the first story of chivalry printed in 
Spain, and served as a model to all those which followed. 
Being, then, the founder and leader of that pestilent sect, 
he can plead no excuse to save him from the stake." x 

" Except," interposed the barber, whose name was Nicho- 
las, " that he is the best of his kind, and on that ground 
may deserve to be pardoned." " That is true," answered 
the priest with judicial gravity. " Let the prisoner stand 
down, and await further judgment. But what have we 
here ? " he continued, taking up another weighty tome, 
and eyeing it severely. " ' The Feats of Esplandian ' — 
a most unworthy son of Amadis ! Take him, mistress 
housekeeper, and fling him into the yard ; there let him 
lie at the bottom of the heap." 

The housekeeper complied with much satisfaction, and 
poor Esplandian was sent flying through the window, and 
fell with a great thump on the stones below. 

" Let the trial proceed," said the priest. " Who is the 
next offender ? " " x^ll these," replied the barber, point- 
ing to eight portly folios standing in a row, " are of the 
family of Amadis." " Away with them ! " cried the 
priest. " Into the yard they shall go ! And this fellow," 
added he, touching with his foot a fat volume, with the 
title " Amadis of Greece," " shall lead the dance, for a 
quibbling, ranting, fustian rogue as he is." The house- 

1 The whole chapter is closely modelled on the official proceedings of the 
Inquisition. 



The Burning of the Books of Chivalry 31 

keeper took these eight giant children of Amadis in her 
arms, and heaving them with a great effort on to the 
window sill, pitched them all together into the yard. 

One by one all the books of chivalry were passed in 
review, and with very few exceptions condemned to the 
flames. Among those which were spared was " Palmerin 
of England/' a romance of the sixteenth century, on which 
the priest pronounced this high eulogy : " This Palm of 
England is a thing unique in its kind, and deserves to be 
treasured in a golden casket, like that which Alexander 
found among the spoils of Darius, and set apart to hold 
the works of the poet Homer. 5 ' 

At last the priest grew weary of scrutinising each 
separate volume, and directed the housekeeper to throw 
all the folios that remained into the yard. The good 
dame needed no second bidding, but went to work with 
such vigour that the last of these heretics, as the priest 
had called them, soon lay sprawling on the top of the 
pile. 

After these grand offenders had been thus disposed of, 
the barber pointed to a row of smaller volumes, contain- 
ing poems, ballads, and pastoral romances, and asked 
what was to be done with them. " These may be spared," 
answered the priest. " They belong to a different order 
from those arch-leaders of schism and false doctrine, 
being books of light entertainment, and innocent of all 
offence." " But consider, sir," said the niece, " whether 
there, be no danger in these books also. What if my 
uncle, after being cured of the disease of knight-errantry, 
should be infected by the desire of becoming a shepherd, 
and go roaming about the fields and woods, singing and 
playing the lute, or, what would be still worse, should 



32 Stories from Don Quixote 

turn poet himself, which is said to be a disease beyond 
all cure/' 

" The young lady is right," observed the priest, " and 
we shall do well to remove this new stumbling-block 
from our friend's path." Accordingly the poems and 
pastorals were subjected to the same scrutiny as the 
books of chivalry ; and some were pronounced guilty, 
and delivered over to the secular arm, represented by the 
housekeeper, but not a few- were spared. Among the 
latter was the " Galatea,"a pastoral romance by Cervantes 
himself, written in the manner of Sidney's " Arcadia." 



Don Quixote and Sancho 



TWO days after the burning of the books Don 
Quixote rose from his bed, and went straight to 
the room where he had been accustomed to 
study. When he came to the place where the door had 
been, he saw before him, much to his astonishment, 
nothing but a blank wall. " What is the meaning of this ? n 
he enquired of the housekeeper, who was just coming 
up the stairs. " Where is my room, and where is the 
door ? " The housekeeper, who had been well prompted 
by the priest in the part she was to play, answered readily 
that the room had disappeared with all its contents, 
having been carried off by the Devil. (< It was not the 
Devil, 55 said Don Quixote's niece, who arrived at the same 
moment, and remembered her instructions better. "It 
was an enchanter, who came mounted on a dragon one 
night while you were on your travels, and went into the 
room. What he did there I can't say, but after a few 
minutes he flew away through the roof, leaving the house 
full of smoke. When we took courage to go and see 
what had happened, we found that both books and room 
had vanished. What it all means I can't sav ; but I 
remember very well that the naughty old man, just as he 
was going, said, in a loud voice, that he had a private 
grudge against the owner of the books, and had therefore 

33 



34 Stories from Don Quixote 

done the mischief which would afterwards appear. He 
said also that his name was Mufiaton the Wise." 

" Friston, he must have said," answered Don Quixote, 
who had listened to the preposterous story with perfect 
gravity. " He is a mighty magician, and a great enemy 
of mine, who is bitterly incensed against me, because 
he knows that I am one day to fight a duel with a knight 
whom he favours, and overthrow him ; and because he 
cannot prevent it, he plays me these scurvy tricks out of 
pure malice." 

" Dear uncle," said the young lady, alarmed to see that 
his thoughts were still running in the old channel, " why 
should you engage in these quarrels ? Would it not be 
better to stay quietly at home than to go running about 
the world crying for the moon ? Do remember that 
many go for wool and come back shorn." 

" Shorn ? " retorted Don Quixote, hotly. " Your wits 
have gone astray, child, if you talk to me of shearing. 
Before they touch a single hair of mine I will pluck out 
all their beards by the roots ! " 

Perceiving him to be hot with anger, his niece wisely 
forbore to push the argument further, and left him to 
meditate on the ill-natured pranks of the enchanter 
Friston. The real truth of the matter was that during 
the time of his illness the priest had caused the door of 
the chamber to be walled up, and directed the two women 
of Don Quixote's household to give the explanation, 
which he received with such perfect good faith. 

II 

For two weeks Don Quixote remained peacefully at 
home, and many were the pleasant discussions which 



Don Quixote and Sancho 35 

passed between him and his old friends, the priest and 
barber, on his favourite theme — the pressing need of 
reviving the profession of knight-errantry, and his own 
peculiar fitness for rendering this great service to the 
world. All this time he was secretly negotiating with 
a certain peasant, a neighbour of his, whose name was 
Sancho Panza, an honest, poor man, not much better 
furnished with wits than the knight himself. This simple 
fellow lent a ready ear to his grand tales of glory and 
conquest, and at last consented to follow him as his 
squire, being especially tempted by certain mysterious 
hints which Don Quixote let fall concerning an " Isle," 
of which his new master promised to make him governor 
at the first opportunity. 

This matter being arranged Don Quixote patched up 
his armour, obtained a new lance, and having provided 
himself with a sum of money, gave notice to his squire of 
the day on which he proposed to start. Sancho, who 
was short and fat, and little used to travelling on foot, 
asked leave to bring his ass, remarking that it was a 
very good one. This proposal gave the knight pause, for, 
try as he would, he could remember no authority for a 
squire on a long-eared charger ; but finally he gave the 
required permission, resolving to furnish him with a 
worthier steed as soon as possible, by taking the horse 
of the first discourteous knight whom he met. 

When all was ready they set off together one night, 
without taking leave of their families, and rode steadily 
on, so that by daybreak they were beyond the reach of 
pursuit. Sancho Panza sat his ass like a patriarch, 
carrying with him his saddle-bags and leather bottle ; 
and all his thoughts were of the Isle which his master 



36 Stories from Don Quixote 

had promised him. Don Quixote was lost in loftier 
meditations until he was roused from his reverie by the 
voice of his squire, who said : " I hope your Grace has 
not forgotten the Isle which I was to have, for I shall 
know well how to govern it, however big it may be." 
" As to that/ 5 replied Don Quixote, " thou needest have 
no fear ; I shall only be complying with an ancient and 
honourable custom of knights-errant, and, indeed, I 
purpose to improve on their practice, for, instead of 
waiting, as they often did, until thou art worn out in my 
service, I shall seek the first occasion to bestow on thee 
this gift ; and it may be that before a week has passed 
thou wilt be crowned king of that Isle." 

" Well," said Sancho, " if this miracle should come to 
pass, my goodwife Joan will be a queen and my sons 
young princes." 

" Who doubts it ? " answered Don Quixote. 

" I do," rejoined Sancho. " My Joan a queen ! Nay, 
if it rained crowns, I don't believe that one would ever 
settle on my dame's head. Believe me, your honour, 
she's not worth three farthings as a queen ; she might 
manage as a countess, though that would be hard 
enough." 

" Think not so meanly of thyself, Sancho," said Don 
Quixote, gravely. " Marquis is the very least title which 
I intend for thee, if thou wilt be content with that." 

" That I will, and heaven bless your honour," said 
Sancho, heartily. " I will take what you give, and be 
thankful, knowing that you will not make the burden too 
heavy for my back." 



The Battle of the Windmills 

CHATTING thus they reached the top of a 
rising ground, and saw before them thirty or 
forty windmills in the plain below ; and as soon 
as Don Quixote set eyes on them he said to his squire : 
" Friend Sancho, we are in luck to-day ! See, there 
stands a troop of monstrous giants, thirty or more, and 
with them I will forthwith do battle, and slay them every 
one. With their spoils we will lay the foundation of our 
fortune, as is the victor's right ; moreover, it is doing 
heaven good service to sweep this generation of vipers 
from off the face of the earth." 

" What giants do you mean ? " asked Sancho Panza. 

11 Those whom thou seest yonder," answered his master, 
" with the long arms, which in such creatures are some- 
times two leagues in length." 

"What is your honour thinking of?" cried Sancho. 
" These are not giants, but windmills, and their arms, as 
you call them, are the sails, which, being driven by the 
wind, set the millstones going." 

11 Tis plain," said Don Quixote, " that thou hast still 
much to learn in our school of adventures. I tell thee 
they are giants, and if thou art afraid, keep out of the 
way, and pass the time in prayer, while I am engaged 
with them in fierce and unequal battle." 

Saying this, he set spurs to Rozinante, and turning a 
deaf ear to the cries of Sancho, who kept repeating that 



38 Stories from Don Quixote 

the supposed giants were nothing but windmills, he 
thundered across the plain, shouting at the top of his 
voice : " Fly not, ye cowardly loons, for it is only a single 
knight who is coming to attack you ! " 

Just at this moment there came a puff of wind, which 
set the sails in motion ; seeing which, Don Quixote cried : 
" Ay, swing your arms ! If ye had more of them than 
Briareos himself, I would make you pay for it." Then, 
with a heartfelt appeal to his lady Dulcinea, he charged 
full gallop at the nearest mill, and pierced the descending 
sail with his lance. The weapon was shivered to pieces, 
and horse and rider, caught by the sweep of the sail, were 
sent rolling with great violence across the plain. 

" Heaven preserve us ! " cried Sancho, who had followed 
as fast as his ass could trot, and found his master lying 
very still by the side of his steed. " Did I not warn your 
honour that these things were windmills, and not giants 
at all ? Surely none could fail to see it, unless he had 
such another whirligig in his own pate ! " 

" Be silent, good Sancho ! " replied Don Quixote, " and 
know that the things of war, beyond all others, are subject 
to continual mutation. Moreover, in the present case I 
think, nay, I am sure, that an alien power has been at 
work, even that wicked enchanter Friston, who carried off 
my books ; he it is who has changed those giants into 
windmills, to rob me of the honour of their defeat. But 
in the end all his evil devices shall be baffled by my good 
sword." 

" Heaven grant that it may be so ! " said Sancho, 
assisting him to rise ; and the knight then remounted 
Rozinante, whose shoulders were almost splayed by his 
fall, and turned his face towards the Puerto Lapice, a 




ERHEST 



u He charged full gallop at the nearest mill" 



38 



The Battle of the Windmills 39 

rugged mountain pass, through which ran the main road 
from Madrid to Andalusia ; for such a place, he thought, 
could not fail to afford rich and varied matter for 
adventures. 

After they had advanced some time in silence, Don 
Quixote said : " My heart is heavy at the loss of my good 
lance ; but I intend to replace it by tearing off a bough 
from the first convenient oak or ash tree, following in this 
the example of Diego Perez de Vargas, an illustrious 
Spanish knight, who, with the bough or trunk of an oak 
tree brayed and hammered so many Moors that he got 
the name of Vargas the Smasher, which is still held by his 
descendants. It is my purpose to arm myself with such 
another beam, and therewith to do such deeds that thou 
wilt deem thyself fortunate to have witnessed them." 

" In faith, I believe every word your honour says," replied 
Sancho. " But couldn't you hold yourself somewhat 
straighter in the saddle ? You are sitting all askew. I 
suppose it is from the pain of your fall." 

" Tis very true," aswered Don Quixote ; " but the law 
of knighthood forbids me to complain, even though I were 
ripped open in the middle." 

" Then there is no more to be said," rejoined Sancho, 
" though I would much rather hear your honour cry out 
when you are hurt, than see you suffer in silence. For 
myself, I must needs complain of the smallest scratch, 
unless that law of which you speak is binding on squires 
as well as knights." 

This frank confession made Don Quixote laugh, and 
he gave Sancho free leave to complain whenever he liked, 
in season or out of season, saying that he had never read 
anything to the contrary in the code of chivalry. 



40 Stories from Don Quixote 

Sancho now reminded his master that it was time for 
dinner, and Don Quixote bade him eat whenever he 
pleased ; as for himself, he would taste nothing at present. 
Thereupon Sancho reduced his pace to a walk, and taking 
from his saddle-bags what he had brought with him, rode 
slowly behind, eating as he went ; and from time to time 
he lifted his bottle, and opening his mouth wide let a thin 
stream of wine trickle down his throat, 1 with such enjoy- 
ment that there was not a wine-taster in Malaga but 
would have envied him. And as he rode thus, taking 
draught after draught, it seemed to him that knight- 
errantry was the finest sport in the world. 

They spent that night in a small wood, and from one 
of the trees Don Quixote tore a withered bough, and 
fastened to it the lance-head which he had taken from the 
broken shaft. Then, like a true lover and faithful knight, 
he kept vigil all through the hours of darkness, thinking 
of his lady Dulcinea ; while Sancho, whose potations had 
been neither weak nor scanty, snored steadily all night 
long, and never stirred, even when the rays of the sun 
began to beat on his face, and the whole wood was ringing 
with the morning song of birds. 

From this happy state he was roused by the voice of 
his master ; and the first thing he did was to stretch out 
his hand for his bottle, which he was concerned to find a 
good deal reduced in girth 2 ; for he saw no prospect of 
replenishing it in that wild and desolate region. Don 
Quixote again refused to share his squire's repast, and 
breakfasted, as he had dined, on the sweet thoughts of 
his love. 

1 A method of drinking still practised in Spain. 

2 The bottle was of leather. 



Don Quixote's Duel with the 
Valiant Biscayan 

ABOUT three o'clock in the afternoon they came 
in sight of the Pass of Lapice. " Here, brother 
Sancho," said Don Quixote, " we may plunge 
our hands up to the elbows in adventures. And remember, 
thou must not draw thy sword in my defence, even 
though thou seest me in mortal peril, unless those who 
attack me are people of the vulgar sort ; but if they are 
of knightly rank, thou art forbidden by the laws of 
chivalry to cross blades with them, until thou art dubbed 
a knight/' 

" Doubt not, sir," replied Sancho, " that I shall obey 
you in this to the letter, and the more so that I am by 
nature a man of peace, and a sworn enemy of brawls and 
quarrels. But when it comes to the defence of my own 
person I mean to lay on stoutly, without stopping to ask 
whether it is knight or clown who assails me." 

" Of course," said Don Quixote, " thou mayest do that ; 
but in the matter of aiding me against knights thou must 
set bounds to thy natural impetuosity." 

" Be assured that I will do so," answered the squire. 
" Yes, I will keep this precept as holy as the Sabbath." 

While they were talking thus they saw coming along the 
road a pair of Benedictine monks, each mounted on a 
mule as tall as a dromedary. They wore half-masks, 



42 Stories from Don Quixote 

with goggles, to protect their eyes from the dust, and 
carried umbrellas. Behind them came a coach, attended 
by four or five outriders, and two muleteers on foot. The 
occupant of the coach was a Biscayan lady, on the way to 
Seville to meet her husband, who was about to embark 
for the Indies, where he held an important office. The 
friars were strangers to the lady, though they happened to 
be travelling the same way. Mounted on their huge, 
unwieldy beasts, and disguised by those hideous masks, 
they presented an appearance sufficiently frightful ; and 
Don Quixote, as soon as he saw them, cried out to 
Sancho : " Unless I am greatly deceived, here is a most 
rare and notable adventure ! The two black shapes 
which thou seest there are without doubt enchanters, who 
have got some princess into their power, and are carrying 
her off in yonder coach. It shall be my task to rescue 
the lady." 

" Mind what you are doing, sir," said Sancho in alarm, 
u or you will come off worse than you did with the 
windmills. These men are holy friars, and the people 
in the coach are ordinary travellers. Surely it is the 
evil one who puts such whims into your head." 

" I have told thee already," replied Don Quixote, 
" that thou art a mere novice in adventures. That which 
I say is the truth, as thou shalt see." With these words 
he rode forward, and drawing up in the middle of the 
road, cried to the friars in a loud voice : " Stand, ye sons 
of Satan, and deliver up the exalted princesses whom 
ye are carrying away by force in that coach ! If ye 
refuse, ye shall die on the spot, as a just punishment 
for your villainy." 

The friars halted, not less astonished at Don Quixote's 



Duel with the Valiant Biscayan 43 

appearance than at his words ; and one of them replied : 
11 Sir Knight, we are not sons of Satan, but two friars of 
the order of St Benedict ; and we know nothing of 
captured princesses, whether there be any in that coach 
or not." 

" Think not to cozen me with fair speeches," answered 
Don Quixote ; " I know you, ye lying hounds " ; and 
without another word he lowered his lance, and rushed 
at the nearest friar with such fury that if the priest had 
not saved himself by dropping from his mule he would 
have been killed, or at least badly wounded. 

The second cleric, seeing his companion thus handled, 
dug his heels into his mountain of a mule, and scoured 
across the plain fleet as the wind. The other still lay 
where he had fallen, and Sancho, seeing his plight, 
came up and began to ease him of his garments. 
While he was thus engaged, two men, who were the 
friars' servants, approached and asked him why he was 
stripping their master. He answered that he was only 
taking the lawful spoils of the victory which his master 
Don Quixote had gained. The serving-men, who did 
not understand his talk about spoils and victories, and 
were in no mood for jesting, seized upon Sancho, flung 
him to the ground, and after tearing out his beard by 
handfuls bestow r ed on him so many hearty kicks that 
they left him without sense or breath in his body ; and 
the friar was thus left at liberty to remount his mule, 
which he did with all expedition, trembling all over, and 
as white as a sheet ; and finding himself in the saddle, 
he spurred after his companion, who was standing and 
looking on a good distance off. Then, without staying 
to see the play out, they continued their journey together, 



44 Stories from Don Quixote 

crossing themselves with more devotion than if the Evil 
One had been behind them. 

While this was happening, Don Quixote had been 
standing at the door of the coach, and talking to the 
poor terrified lady. " Fair and gracious dame," he said, 
" you may now deal with your lovely person as seems 
best to you, for the pride of your oppressors is laid low, 
overthrown by my mighty arm. And that you may not 
be in pain to learn the name of your liberator, know that 
I am called Don Quixote de la Mancha, a knight-errant, 
held in bondage by the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso. 
And the only payment which I shall ask for this service 
is that you go without delay to Toboso and tell the 
mistress of my heart that you owe to me your liberty." 

Among the riders who accompanied the coach was a 
certain squire, a native of the Biscayan Provinces ; and 
when he heard the demand of Don Quixote, which, if 
complied with, would have carried the travellers far out 
of their way, he rode up, and seizing hold of the knight's 
lance, said to him in a mixture of his own barbarous 
dialect and broken Spanish : " March, Master Errant, 
and a murrain on thee ! Let the coach pass, or as sure 
as I be a Biscayan, I'll run thee through." 

" If you were a knight and gentleman, which you are 
not," replied Don Quixote with great calmness, " I would 
have chastised your folly and audacity, poor caitiff.''' 

" Not a gentleman ? " shouted the Biscayan in a rage : 
" Drop thy lance, and take thy sword, and I'll cram that 
lie down thy throat." 

" Well bragged, Sir Biscayan ! " retorted Don Quixote, 
and letting fall his lance he drew his sword, and made 
at the Biscayan, resolved to make a ghost of him. The 



Duel with the Valiant Biscayan 45 

Biscayan snatched a cushion from the coach, and holding 
it before him as a shield prepared to defend himself; and 
so they began hewing at each other as if they had been 
mortal enemies. The rest of the party tried in vain to 
separate them, for the Biscayan swore that if anyone 
hindered him he would put them all to death, and his 
mistress as well. The lady in the coach, who was equally 
alarmed and bewildered at the strange scene, made a 
signal to the driver to draw out of the way a little, and 
this being done she sat looking on from a distance at the 
hot encounter. 

And first the Biscayan aimed a weighty blow, which 
fell like a thunderbolt on Don Quixote's shoulder, and 
but for his armour would have cloven him to the waist. 
When the knight felt the force of that prodigious stroke 
he cried in a loud voice, and said : " Queen of my soul, 
Dulcinea, thou rose of loveliness, succour this thy knight, 
who to win thy kindness is braving so dire a peril ! " 

Saying thus, he covered himself well with his shield, 
and gripping firmly his sword-hilt, fell upon the Biscayan, 
being determined to decide the combat by a single blow. 
His antagonist awaited the onset with equal intrepidity, 
having indeed no choice in the matter ; for the animal 
which he was riding, being a hired mule of poor quality, 
was now completely blown, and unable to move a step. 
And so the valiant Biscayan sat clutching his cushion, and 
holding his sword on high, while all the spectators stood 
breathless, and the lady with her handmaids in the coach 
uttered a thousand prayers and vows to all the images 
and religious houses in Spain, that they and their cham- 
pion might find aid and countenance in this awful strait. 

For a moment these two redoubtable champions con- 



46 Stories from Don Quixote 

fronted each other, swinging their falchions, and seeming 
to menace heaven and earth and the nether abyss — so 
fierce and resolute was their bearing ; then the fiery 
Biscayan aimed a stroke at Don Quixote, which fell with 
such force and fury that, if his blade had gone straight to 
the mark, that single blow would have sufficed to end the 
combat and cut short the career of our famous knight. 
But Fortune, who was keeping him for greater things, 
caused the weapon to swerve, so that it alighted on his 
left shoulder, carrying with it on the way a good part of 
the helmet and half an ear, and tearing off the armour 
from the whole of that side. 

What tongue can tell of the sublime rage which swelled 
in Don Quixote's heart when he heard the crash of his 
falling armour and felt his manly beauty thus marred ? 
We must content ourselves with describing how he stood 
up in his stirrups, and grasping his sword in both hands, 
brought it down with such impetuosity that it shore 
through the cushion, and fell like an avalanche on the 
head of the Biscayan, who began to spout blood from 
nose and mouth and ears, and only saved himself from 
falling by throwing his arms round the mule's neck. 
Startled into motion by that dreadful shock, the mule 
bolted across the plain, and then began kicking and 
plunging until she brought her rider to the ground. 

Seeing his enemy thus prostrate, Don Quixote, who 
had been watching his career with great composure, 
sprang from his horse, and running nimbly up to him, 
stood over him with brandished sword, crying, " Yield 
thee, or I will cut off thy head ! " The Biscayan was in 
no condition to answer a word, and Don Quixote was so 
blinded with fury that he would certainly have carried out 



Duel with the Valiant Biscayan 47 

his threat, if the ladies, who had hitherto been sitting as 
terrified spectators of the duel, had not hurried up at this 
moment, and begged him in moving terms to spare the 
life of their squire. 

* I am well pleased, fair ladies," replied Don Quixote, 
loftily, " to grant your request, on this sole condition, that 
the gentleman gives me his word to go forthwith to 
Toboso, and present himself on my behalf before the 
peerless Lady Dulcinea, that she may dispose of him as 
seems best in her eyes." 

The poor frightened ladies gave the promise required, 
without troubling to ask who Dulcinea was ; and with this 
assurance Don Quixote remained satisfied. 



Discourse, grave and gay, between 
Don Quixote and his Squire 

SANCHO soon recovered from the effects of the 
rough handling which he had received from the 
friars* serving-men, and had watched with keen 
interest the progress of the combat between his master 
and the Biscayan. His mind was full of the high prefer- 
ment which Don Quixote had promised him ; and seeing 
the knight preparing to remount, he went to hold his 
stirrup, and, falling on his knees, looked beseechingly 
into his master's face. " What wouldst thou, Sancho ? " 
asked Don Quixote, pausing, with one hand on the saddle. 
" A boon, dear sir, a boon ! " said Sancho, seizing his 
other hand, and kissing it. " Make me the governor of 
that isle which you have gained in this fierce struggle ; 
for, however big it may be, I feel myself man enough to 
rule it as well and as wisely as any governor of any isle 
whatsoever." 

" Take notice, brother Sancho," answered Don Quixote 
gravely, " that this adventure which thou hast witnessed 
was but a chance encounter by the roadside, which brings 
no pay but a cracked crown or the loss of an ear. Only 
be patient, and we shall soon meet with adventures which 
will lead to governorships and better things besides." 

The simple squire was loud in his thanks, and having 

helped his generous master into the saddle, he mounted 

4 8 



Don Quixote and his Squire 49 

his ass, and followed him as well as he could. But Don 
Quixote rode at such a pace that Sancho was soon left 
far behind, and was obliged to call to him to moderate 
his speed. Don Quixote drew rein, and presently the 
squire came panting up, and said with an anxious look : 
" It seems to me, sir, that it would be well for us to seek 
sanctuary in some church. That fellow whom you 
drubbed so soundly will certainly report the matter to 
the Holy Brotherhood, 1 and if they catch us we may cool 
our heels in gaol for many a long day." 

" Talk not so foolishly," answered Don Quixote in high 
disdain. " Didst thou ever hear or read of a knight- 
errant being brought to trial for all the homicides that he 
had ever committed ? " 

" Of homiciles I know nought/' replied Sancho, " for in 
all my life I never tried one. All I know is that the 
Holy Brotherhood has charge to arrest those who break 
the peace on the king's highway/ 1 

" Pooh ! " said Don Quixote. " Never mind the Holy 
Brotherhood. Thou needst not fear them — or the 
Chaldeans 2 either — so long as thou hast me to defend 
thee. But say now, as thou art a true man, hast thou 
ever seen a knight more valiant than me on the face of 
this earth ? Hast thou read in history of another who 
has, or ever had, more mettle in the attack, more wind to 
hold out, more skill to strike, or more dexterity to defeat 
his foe ? " 

" To tell the truth," answered Sancho, " I never read 
any history at all, for I can neither write nor read ; but 
this I will affirm, and stake my life on it, that I never 

1 A body of police, whose duty it was to capture and punish highwaymen. 

2 An allusion to Jeremiah xxxii. 4. 



50 Stories from Don Quixote 

served a bolder master than your honour in all my days, 
and pray heaven that we may not pay for your daring 
where I said. 1 For the present, all I ask of you is that 
you will let me bind up your ear, which is bleeding 
sorely. I have some lint and a little white ointment in 
my saddle-bags." 

" All that would be superfluous," remarked Don 
Quixote, " if I had remembered to make a phial of the 
balsam of Fierabras, one drop of which would heal me at 
once." 

" Phials ? balsams ? " said Sancho, wondering. " Of 
what does your honour speak ? " 

" A most wondrous balsam it is," answered Don 
Quixote, " and I carry the recipe for making it in my 
head. He who has it may defy death and wounds. I 
will presently make some and give it into thy charge, and 
this is how thou must use it : when, in the course of 
some battle, thou seest me cut clean through the waist 
(a thing which often happens), thou must lift up gently 
that portion of my body which has fallen to the ground, 
taking care to do it before the blood is congealed, and set 
it with great nicety on the other half which remains in 
the saddle. See that the two halves coincide exactly, 
and then give me only two sips of the balsam which I 
have named, and in an instant I shall be whole and 
sound as an apple." 

" Well," said Sancho, " I want no isles to govern if 
your honour is in possession of a secret like this. All I 
ask, in return for my faithful service, is that you will give 
me the recipe for that sovereign fluid. A single ounce of 
it will fetch, I should think, two reals, or more, and it 

1 In gaol. 



Don Quixote and his Squire 51 

will give me the means of passing the rest of my life in 
ease and honour. But what is the cost of making it ? " 

" For less than three reals you can make half a gallon," 
replied Don Quixote. 

" Mercy on us ! " cried Sancho. " Do, sir, make haste 
and show me how it is made." 

" Not so fast, friend/' said his master. " By and by 
thou shalt learn this and much greater secrets ; for the 
present, my wound requires thy care, for it pains me more 
than is agreeable." 

Sancho produced his lint and ointment, and Don 
Quixote now observed for the first time that his helmet 
was broken, whereupon he was almost beside himself 
with anger, and, laying his hand on his sword, he cast up 
his eyes to heaven, and said : " By yonder heaven, and by 
the blessed light of day, I swear that until I have got full 
vengeance from the villain who hath served me thus I 
will lead the life which the Marquis of Mantua swore to 
lead until he had revenged the murder of his nephew, 
Baldwin — that is to say, I will not eat bread at table, nor 

lie in a bed, nor " When he had got thus far the 

good knight's memory failed him, but he supplied the 
blank by gnashing his teeth and rolling his eyes. 

" Consider, sir," said Sancho, who was somewhat 
alarmed at this new outbreak, " if the gentleman has 
carried out your command, and presented himself before 
your lady at Toboso, he will have done all that you 
required of him, and deserves no further punishment 
unless he offends again." 

" Thou hast spoken well and to the point," answered 
Don Quixote, " and the oath shall be cancelled, as far as 
it relates to taking fresh vengeance on that man ; never- 



52 Stories from Don Quixote 

theless, I take it again in a new form, and vow to live as 
I said, until I have gained another helmet as good as this 
was from some knight or other. And herein I have high 
precedent and example in him who won the helmet of 
Mambrino." 

" Think what you are doing, sir," cried Sancho, " in 
taking such oaths, to the prejudice of your health and the 
burdening of your conscience. Supposing many days 
should pass before you meet a man with such a helmet as 
you describe, what are you going to do ? How long will 
you persist in sleeping in your clothes, lying out of doors 
at night, and all the other fooleries contained in the oath 
of that old, crack-brained marquis, whom your honour 
admires so much ? In this part of the country we shall 
meet none but carters and mule-drivers, who wear no 
helmets, and have perhaps never heard of such a thing in 
all the days of their life/' 

" There thou art mistaken," answered Don Quixote, 
" for before we have been two hours on these cross-roads 
we shall see more armed men than ever fought under the 
banners of the Sultan in far Cathay. Then I shall have 
not only isles, but whole kingdoms, to bestow on thee, 
and thou shalt be rich and great beyond thy wildest 
dreams. But now search thy saddle-bags and see if thou 
hast anything to eat, and we will presently look for some 
castle where we can pass the night, and make that balsam 
for my ear, which is very sore and painful." 

" Here is all I have got," said Sancho, diving into 
his bags, and bringing out an onion, a piece of cheese, 
and some scraps of bread. " But this is very poor fare 
for such a knight as your honour." 

" There thou art wrong again," answered Don Quixote. 



Don Quixote and his Squire 55 

" It is not for those who live under the law of knight- 
errantry to pamper their bodies ; they hold it an honour 
to live without food for weeks together, and when they eat 
at all, it is of the first thing that comes to hand. Their 
spirit is of a finer essence, nourished on beautiful thoughts 
and grand designs. They cannot, indeed, dispense alto- 
gether with mere earthly nourishment, being compounded, 
like other men, of body and mind ; but as most of their 
life is passed in forests and deserts, their diet consists 
chiefly of such country messes 1 as those which thou 
offerest me here." 

" If that be so," rejoined Sancho, " in future I will 
furnish my bags with all sorts of dried fruits for your 
knightly stomach, and keep that which is of more savour 
and substance for myself, who profess no such contempt 
for fleshly comforts." 

" That is not necessary," said Don Quixote. " A 
knight may eat flesh, when he can get it, though for 
the most part he has to be content with the herbs of 
the field." 

" I should like to know where to find these herbs," 
replied Sancho, " for we are likely to want them before 
we have done." 

When they had finished their dry and scanty victuals, 
they went in search of the castle of which Don Quixote 
had spoken ; but finding none, they were obliged to pass 
the night in a wooden shed belonging to some goat- 
herds,, who received them kindly, and entertained them 
with such things as they had. 

1 "Herbs, and other country messes," — Milton, " JO Allegro" 



Don Quixote and the Carriers 

NEXT day our knight and his squire resumed 
their journey, and about noon they came to 
a pleasant meadow,- well shaded by trees, and 
watered by a clear stream. Tempted by the inviting 
coolness, they resolved to rest here until the fierce 
noonday heat had passed, and leaving Rozinante and 
the ass to graze at large on the rich grass, they sat 
down to eat what they had brought with them in their 
wallets. 

Now it chanced that a score or so of ponies belonging 
to certain Galician carriers, who had halted in the same 
spot to take their siesta, were feeding not far off; and 
Rozinante, who was of a social disposition, began to 
make friendly advances to one of the herd. But the 
brute was so uncivil as to receive him with his heels, 
a compliment which our valiant Bucephalus was not 
slow to return. The dispute was soon settled by the 
carriers, who ran to the rescue, armed with heavy cudgels, 
and assailed Rozinante with such a storm of blows that 
in a trice he lay senseless on the ground. 

Seeing his charger thus maltreated, Don Quixote 
hastened to his aid, crying to Sancho, who followed 
panting behind : " These are no knights, but the very 
dregs of the people, and therefore thou mayest lawfully 
join me in avenging the outrage to Rozinante/' 

" And how are we," gasped Sancho, " who are but two, 



Don Quixote and the Carriers 55 

or I should say but one and a half, to take vengeance on 
more than twenty men ? " 

" I am as good as a hundred," replied Don Quixote, 
and without wasting more words he fell upon the carriers, 
sword in hand ; and Sancho, inspired by his master's 
example, did the same. With the first stroke of his 
weapon Don Quixote cut open the leather jerkin of 
one of the carriers, and made an ugly gash in his 
shoulder ; but the rest of the party, seeing themselves 
assaulted by two men, while they were twenty, sur- 
rounded the pair, and plied their cudgels with great 
energy and earnestness. One heavy blow laid Sancho 
in the dust, and with a second Don Quixote was stretched 
at his side. So there they lay, the knight, his steed, 
and his squire, brought to " sad overthrow and foul 
defeat w by the rude hands of clowns. 

The carriers, having now spent their fury, began to 
be alarmed for themselves, so they loaded their ponies 
with all despatch, and went their way, leaving the three 
for dead. 

II 

For a long time that pleasant glade lay wrapped in 
the sultry stillness of a southern noon ; then a voice was 
heard, speaking in faint and lamentable tones — it was 
the voice of Sancho Panza : " Oh ! Master Don Quixote ! 
Ah ! Master Don Quixote ! " 

" What wouldst thou, brother Sancho ? " answered Don 
Quixote, in the same feeble and quavering key. 

" I wish," replied Sancho, " that your honour would 
give me a drink of that magic medicine of Fiery Blast, 1 

1 Sancho's version of Fierabras. 



$6 Stories from Don Quixote 

if you chance to have it by you : maybe it will be of 
service for broken bones, as well as for wounds." 

" If I had that, all would be well," said Don Quixote, 
with a groan ; " but wait until I can move, and the first 
thing that I do will be to procure some of that balsam." 

" And how long will it be/' asked Sancho, " before we 
shall be able to stir from this spot ? " 

" That is a point hard to determine," answered the 
afflicted knight ; " we have been sorely stricken, and the 
fault is all mine — I ought to have remembered that I, as 
a dubbed knight, was forbidden to draw my sword on 
that low-born rabble. Forgetting this, I have broken the 
rules of my Order, and therefore is this calamity fallen 
upon us. In future I will leave thee to deal with all 
assailants of the baser sort, reserving myself for such as 
are knights like myself; and what I can do against these 
thou hast seen by a thousand proofs." 

Sancho found the proposed division of labour not much 
to his taste, and answered accordingly : " Dear sir, I am 
not a man of war, like you, but of a nature meek, pacific, 
and mild, as becomes a husband and father. Therefore, 
I beg your honour to take note that from this day forth 
I forgive whatsoever injuries are, have been, or shall be 
done to me, by any person of whatever condition, knight 
or clown, gentle or simple, without distinction of rank or 
station." 

This frank statement of Sancho provoked Don 
Quixote to an outburst of indignation, though the 
battered state of his ribs made speaking a painful ex- 
ertion. " How deep," he cried, " is thy delusion, and how 
little this poverty of spirit accords with thy ambition to 
be made governor of some isle or province in that empire 



Don Quixote and the Carriers 57 

which I am destined to gain ! How wilt thou control 
and keep in check the turbulence of thy subjects, newly 
brought under a foreign yoke, and seeking every occasion 
to regain their liberty ? He who would maintain himself 
in a perilous seat of power must show another temper, 
prompt alike in offence and defence." 

" Heaven preserve me from such a temper as your 
honour describes ! " answered Sancho, " if it brings no 
better pay than a bushel of broken bones. But at 
present I am more disposed for bandages than for bandy- 
ing words. Try, sir, if you can get up, and we will see if 
we can get Rozinante on his legs, though he doesn't 
deserve it after getting us into this pickle. Well, well, 
life is full of surprises ; who would have thought that a 
respectable beast like Rozinante would have so mis- 
behaved himself, or that the day after your honour's 
glorious victory over the Biscayan we should both be 
lying here, pounded and beaten to a jelly ? " 

" Thou must understand," said Don Quixote, " that 
these are the inconveniences which belong to our pro- 
fession." 

" Is that so?" answered Sancho; " then let me ask 
your honour how often we may expect such inconveni- 
ences ; for if two came close together, without giving us 
time to recover, I think we should be in no need of a 
third." 

" Those who walk," said Don Quixote, " on the lofty 
path which we have chosen, must needs be in danger of 
sudden falls. Was not Amadis, the paragon and mirror of 
knight-errantry, made prisoner by his enemy Arcalaus the 
enchanter, who bound him to a post, and gave him two 
hundred lashes with the reins of his horse ? And was 

F 



58 Stories from Don Quixote 

he not afterwards flung into a noisome dungeon, and 
after that made to drink a draught of physic which 
almost made an end of him ? This I tell thee to satisfy 
thy nice sense of honour, and lest thou shouldst suppose 
that we have been disgraced by the blows laid upon us." 

" All that is very fine and noble/' replied Sancho, " but 
it won't rub the marks from my shoulders, or take the 
pain out of my bones." 

Here he was interrupted by his faithful ass Dapple, 
who came snuffing round to see what was the matter. 
With great pain and effort Sancho rose to his feet, but 
when he tried to stand upright he failed completely, and 
remained, doubled up like a hunch-back, groaning and 
sighing grievously, and cursing the day when he became 
squire to a knight-errant. Then he saddled and bridled 
the ass, and helped Rozinante to his feet ; and after 
several attempts he contrived at last to hoist Don 
Quixote on to the ass's back, where the battered knight 
lay cross-wise, hanging down on either side, as Sancho 
said, like a sack of straw. 

Leading his ass by the halter, he took the nearest way, 
so far as he could guess, to the high road ; and Rozinante 
followed meekly, being tied to the ass's tail. After a 
painful march of two or three miles they came to the 
road ; and on turning the first corner, Sancho cried with 
great delight : " I see an inn." — " A castle thou wouldst 
say," said Don Quixote from where he was hanging. — " I 
say an inn," answered Sancho testily. — " And I say a 
castle," protested the knight again ; and still hotly dis- 
puting, they arrived at the door of the house. 



The Great Battle with the Army 
of the East 

WE must pass very rapidly over our hero's 
adventures at the inn, which Don Quixote, 
according to his wont, persisted in describing 
as a castle. His strange delusion led to a violent quarrel, 
in the course of which the knight was dreadfully mauled 
and beaten by a certain carrier, and the squire, as usual, 
came in for more than his share of the bruises. When 
peace was restored, Don Quixote set to work to prepare 
the magic balsam with which he expected to work such 
wonders. It was a compound of oil, rosemary, salt, and 
wine, well shaken together, and brought to the boil over 
the fire ; and when the fearful mixture was ready, Don 
Quixote determined at once to try its virtues on himself, 
and swallowed a liberal dose, which acted as a powerful 
emetic and threw him into a copious sweat. After sleeping 
for three hours he felt so much refreshed that he resolved 
to take the road again without delay, lest he should miss 
some brilliant opportunity of displaying his prowess. 

Encouraged by his master's example, Sancho had also 
swallowed a huge draught of that wonderful medicine, but 
with a, very different result. For, being of a much coarser 
fibre than his master, he kept the stuff on his stomach so 
long that it brought on an awful fit of colic, and he lay 
writhing and groaning on his bed, racked with pain, and 
cursing the hour of his birth. When at last he obtained 

59 



60 Stories from Don Quixote 

relief, he was so much weakened by the action of the 
physic that he seemed about to give up the ghost. In 
this state he was found by his master, who sought to 
comfort him by explaining that the balsam only operated 
with benefit on knightly stomachs. Then leaving him he 
went to the stable, and with his own hands saddled 
Rozinante and the ass. All the people of the inn were 
gathered at the gate when he rode up, with aching bones, 
but light and joyful heart, to .take leave of his host, whom 
he saluted with all knightly courtesy, and thanked in 
flowery language for his kind entertainment, offering in 
recompense to render him any service he might require. 
" All the service I ask," answered the man stolidly, " is 
that you should pay your bill." Don Quixote was much 
shocked and grieved by this grossness, and having reviled 
the landlord as a niggardly churl, he spurred Rozinante, 
and rode off before anyone could stop him. 

Having gone some distance he drew rein, and looked 
back to see what Sancho was doing ; and at the same 
moment he heard loud cries coming from the inn, as of 
someone in distress. Expecting some new adventure he 
rode back, and finding the gates locked, he halted by the 
wall of the courtyard. What was his wrath and amaze- 
ment when he saw the corpulent person of his squire 
rising and falling in the air like a shuttlecock, and heard 
his voice filling the place with threats and entreaties ! 
The fact was that the people of the inn, seeing that the 
master had escaped them, determined to take vengeance 
on his man, and half-a-dozen lusty fellows were now 
taking their pastime by tossing him in a blanket. 

In vain Don Quixote thundered the most awful 
menaces from the other side of the wall ; the sport went 







" He saw his squire rising and falling in the air like a shuttlecock " 



60 



Battle with the Army of the East 61 

merrily on, and when they were quite tired out they let 
their victim go, and Sancho clambered on to his ass, and 
rode sulkily off to join his master, forgetting, in his con- 
fusion, to take his saddle-bags with him. When he came 
up he found Don Quixote sitting in his saddle, and holding 
in his hand a tin oil-flask, which contained the rest of the 
precious balsam. " Take a draught of this," said the 
knight, " and thou w T ilt soon forget all thy pains and mis- 
chances." But Sancho made a very wry face, and being 
in the worst of humours, could hardly refrain from cursing 
the balsam and him who made it. " Do you want to make 
an end of me altogether ? " he asked. " Keep the stuff for 
your own knightly stomach — I want no more of it." 

After that they rode on for some time in silence, which 
was first broken by Don Quixote. " I am convinced," he 
said gravely, " that yonder inn (or castle) is enchanted, 
and that those who took their evil pastime with thee, 
Sancho, were phantoms, and beings of another world. 
For when I tried to climb the wall and come to thy aid 

I perceived myself to be, as it were, spell-bound in the 
saddle, and without doubt these malignant spirits had laid 
a charm on me, so that I was unable to move." 

" This is all moonshine," answered Sancho, w 7 hose faith 
in his master had by this time dwindled almost to nothing ; 

II they were no more phantoms than I am, but men of 
flesh and blood like me, and I heard all their names as 
they were tossing me. What I have now to say is this, 
that we had better go home and get in the harvest, for 
while we go hunting for fortunes we catch nothing but 
misfortunes, and I am tired of this wild-goose chase." 

" Ah ! Sancho," said Don Quixote, reproachfully, " be 
not so fainthearted, but keep thine eyes ever fixed on the 



62 Stories from Don Ouixote 

glorious day, now not far distant, when we shall both be 
crowned with triumph and victory." 

" So your honour has always said," replied Sancho, 
doggedly ; " but since you were dubbed a knight you have 
never gained any victory that I know of, except over the 
Biscayan, and that cost you half an ear and half a helmet ; 
since then there has been nothing but cudgellings and pound- 
ings, with a blanketing thrown in for my special benefit." 

" That was enchantment, as I said before," answered 
Don Quixote, " and to guard against this danger in the 
future I propose on the first occasion which offers to 
furnish myself with a magic sword, like that of Amadis, 
which was a powerful counter-charm against all sorcery 
or witchcraft whatsoever, and, moreover, had so keen an 
edge that no armour was proof against it." 

" I expect the sword will serve me like the balsam," 
remarked Sancho, "and play me some scurvy trick, 
because I am not a dubbed knight." 

Talking thus, as they jogged side by side along the 
road, presently they saw a dense cloud of dust moving 
towards them. " Halt ! " cried Don Quixote, checking 
his horse. " Halt, Sancho, and behold how quickly fortune 
can requite us a thousandfold for all our trials. This is 
the hour appointed for me by fate, that in it I may do 
such deeds as shall be sounded by the trumpet of fame 
till the end of time. Seest thou yon cloud of dust ? It 
is raised by the trampling feet of armed millions who are 
marching towards us across the plain." 

" Then, I suppose," said Sancho, " that there are more 
armed millions coming the other way " ; and he pointed 
in the opposite direction, from which a second cloud of 
dust was rising. " It is even as thou sayest," answered 



Battle with the Army of the East 63 

Don Quixote, looking behind him. " Two mighty armies 
are rushing to the encounter, and that which thou seest 
in front of us is led by the great emperor Alifanfaron, 
lord of the spacious realm of Taprobana, while the other 
marches under the banner of his enemy, the king of the 
Garamantes, Pentapolin of the Sleeveless Arm, so called 
because he always goes into battle with his right arm bare." 

" What are they fighting about ? " asked Sancho. 

" Alifanfaron is a furious pagan/' answered Don Quixote, 
" and desires to wed the daughter of Pentapolin, which 
that monarch will in nowise consent to, unless he renounces 
his false gods and becomes a Christian." 

" Tis very right of Pentapolin," quoth Sancho, " and I 
am for helping him all we can. But what shall we do 
with this ass during the affray? For it will hardly do 
for me to take the field mounted on ass-back." 

" Never trouble thy head about him," said Don Quixote, 
" we shall presently take a whole drove of such coursers 
among the spoils of our victory that even Rozinante will 
be in danger of finding himself displaced." 

By this time the two columns of dust had approached 
so near that they began to mingle, and shadowy shapes 
were seen looming through the darkened air. Beckoning 
Sancho to follow, Don Quixote led the way to the top of 
a low hillock, and taking his stand there he said : " We 
will remain here until the two hosts are fully engaged, 
and when the battle is at its hottest we will throw our 
swords into the scale and decide the issue. Now listen, 
and I will tell thee the names of the most famous knights 
on either side. He whom thou seest there in gilded 
armour, bearing on his shield the figure of a crowned 
lion lying humbly at a maiden's feet, is the valiant 



64 Stories from Don Quixote 

Laurcalco, Lord of the Silver Bridge ; and he with the 
three silver crowns on a field azure is the Grand Duke 
Micocolembo, of dreaded name. Yonder gigantic warrior 
on his right is the undaunted champion Brandabarbaran, 
lord of the three Arabias, whose armour is a serpent's skin, 
and his shield the gate of that temple which Samson over- 
threw when he took vengeance on the Philistines. Now 
turn thine eyes to the other side, and thou wilt see at the 
head of the opposing army the invincible Timonel of Carca- 
jona, whose emblem is a cat regardant on a field or, with the 
legend Miau y signifying that the lady of his affections is 
the lovely Miaulina, daughter of the Duke of Marzipan." 1 
In such fashion the knight went on, inventing names 
and escutcheons for the captains of the two armies which 
his disordered fancy had conjured up, and which, as the 
reader may have guessed, were neither more nor less than 
two vast flocks of sheep, whose bleatings now filled all 
the air, mingled with the baying of dogs and the cries of 
the drovers. These sounds only acted as a spur to his 
imagination, and he proceeded to describe with epic 
magnificence the various nations composing the armies of 
the east and west. " From the lush meadows of Xanthus, 
and from Afric's scorching plains, they come, from the 
golden sands of Arabia and Thermodon's silver stream, — 
from where Pactolus pours his liquid treasures into the 
lap of Lydia, — from haughty and perfidious Carthage, 
from Persia, and from Parthia, and from Media. There 
is the wandering Arab, the cruel Scythian, the iEthiop 
with jewelled lip, and many a tribe besides, flocking in 
multitudes, unnumbered and unnamed. And against 

1 The Spanish is Alfeniquen, from Alfefiique, a sort of lozenge, made of 
sugar and almonds (Covarrubias). 




He lowered his lance and charged down the hill " 64 



Battle with the Army of the East 65 

them march the embattled hosts gathered from every 
land and province of Europe." 

Sancho listened open-mouthed, and the knight was still 
in the full flood of his eloquence, when a sudden puff of 
wind blew the dust aside, and discovered to view the two 
flocks of ewes and rams, whose drivers had much ado to 
keep their charges separate. " Look, sir," said Sancho, 
when his master paused to take breath : " Beshrew my 
wits if I can see either soldier, or knight, or giant ; but 
perhaps we are bewitched again, as we were at the inn." 

" What ? " answered Don Quixote. " Hearest thou not 
the neighing of the steeds, the blare of the trumpets, and 
the rolling of the drums ? " 

" I hear nothing," said Sancho, " but a loud bleating of 
ewes and rams." 

" It is thy terror," replied his master, " which hath 
confused thy senses, and deprived thee of the proper use 
of thine eyes and ears. Go hide thyself, poor coward, 
for my single arm is enough to give the victory to the 
side which I support." With that he spurred Rozinante, 
lowered his lance, and shot down the hill like a thunder- 
bolt, shouting at the top of his voice : " Follow me, all 
ye knights that war under the banners of the valiant 
Emperor Pentapolin, and see me avenge his cause on 
his enemy Alifanfaron of Taprobana ! " And plunging 
into the midst of the flock he began thrusting and foining 
with his lance, crying at every stroke : " Down with the 
heathen dogs ! Strike, slay, and spare not ! " 

The shepherds and owners of the flock cried out to 
him to leave the sheep alone, but finding that he paid 
no heed they unbound their slings and began to salute 
his ears with stones as big as a man's fist. Don Quixote 



66 Stories from Don Quixote 

paid no regard to the stones, but darted hither and 
thither, shouting defiances to Alifanfaron : " Where art 
thou, proud Paynim ? Come hither, and cross swords 
with me, that thou mayest receive the wages of thy 
crime." 

Just then a pebble came flying, which struck him on 
the side, and buried two ribs in his body. Believing him- 
self to be mortally wounded he seized the oil-flask contain- 
ing his balsam and began to drink for dear life ; but before 
he had finished another peppermint 1 arrived, and striking 
full on the flask, shattered it to pieces, crushed two of his 
fingers, and carried away three or four double teeth. 

For a moment Don Quixote sat rocking to and fro, 
then rolled from his saddle, and tumbled headlong to the 
ground. The shepherds came running up, and seeing him 
to all appearance dead, they made haste to gather their 
flocks, and picking up the dead sheep, of which there were 
seven or more, they went their way without more ado. 

All this time Sancho had been standing on the hill, 
watching his master's insane proceedings, tearing his 
beard, and cursing the day and the hour which had first 
brought them together. When the shepherds were gone 
he left his post, and went up to Don Quixote, who was 
still conscious, though in a woeful plight. " I told you 
how it would be, sir," he said reproachfully. " Why will 
you go on like this, taking sheep for armies, and drovers 
for knights and emperors ? " 

" It is all the work of that foul enchanter who pursues 
me with his malice," answered the knight " He envied 
me the glory which I was to win in this battle, and 
turned my foes into sheep, out of pure spite and ill- 

1 J/mendra, lit. ' ' a (sugared) almond. " 



Battle with the Army of the East 67 

will. Mount thine ass, I pray thee, Sancho, and ride 
until thou hast sight of them, and thou wilt find that 
they have all resumed their former shape as knights 
and warriors, all proper men and tall. But stay, go 
not yet, for I have need of thee. Come close, and see 
how many teeth I have lost, for it seems to me that there 
is not one left in my mouth." 

Sancho approached to do as he was bidden, but 
started back immediately with a cry of dismay. u What 
ails you now, master ? " he enquired anxiously ; " your 
face is as green as a fig-leaf." Such indeed was the 
fact ; and Sancho ran to his ass to bring something 
from the saddle-bags for his relief. When he found 
that the wallets were gone he almost lost his wits, 
and vowed to himself that he would forthwith resign 
his squireship, with all its brilliant prospects. Then he 
sank into a state of sullen dejection, and stood with 
his elbows propped on the back of his ass, and leaning 
one cheek on his hand. In this melancholy attitude he 
was found by his master, who came creeping painfully 
along, leading the patient Rozinante, and holding his 
mouth with the other hand, to keep the rest of his 
teeth from falling out. 

" Take heart, Sancho," said he, " after the storm comes 
a calm, and the tempest of disasters which has broken 
over us will be followed by the glad sunlight of pros- 
perity. Be not so cast down by my mischances, since 
no part of them falls on thee." 

" No part ? " answered Sancho in high dudgeon. "Then 
perhaps he who was blanketed yesterday was not my 
father's son, and perhaps the saddle-bags which have 
been lost to-day are not mine ! You had better look 



68 Stories from Don Quixote 

out for some of those herbs which you told me of, for 
we have nothing else to eat." 

" Herbs ! " said Don Quixote with some irritation. 
"I tell thee, Sancho, that at this moment I would rather 
have a single crust and a pilchard's head than all the 
herbs of the field." 

" Well, then," replied Sancho, " if that is so, we had 
better make haste and find an inn, — and pray heaven 
that we may find one where there are no blanket-tossings 
or blanket-tossers, or ghosts, or goblins, for if there are, 
I'll ne'er dip my fingers in this stew again." 

" We will hope for the best," said Don Quixote, " and 
this time I will put myself under thy direction. But 
come hither for a moment, and feel with thy finger in 
my mouth — here in my upper jaw on the right hand 
side — for that is where the pain is, and I want to know 
how many teeth are gone." 

Sancho did so, and asked him how many molars he 
had on that side before his encounter with the shepherds. 
Don Quixote replied that he had never before lost a 
tooth in his life, so that the number would be four or 
five, without counting the wisdom tooth. " Well," said 
Sancho, " they are gone, every one of them ; and in your 
lower jaw there are only two and a half left." 

The poor gentleman was much concerned when he 
heard what havoc had been wrought among his molars ; 
for, as he observed, a tooth is worth more than a 
diamond, and a mouth without teeth is like a mill without 
grindstones. But he comforted himself by the reflection 
that such accidents were the common lot of all knights- 
errant ; and bidding Sancho lead the way, he moved for- 
ward at a slow and mournful pace, nursing his wounded jaw. 



The Helmet of Mambrino 

NIGHT overtook the two wanderers as they were 
passing through a bleak and desolate region ; 
and as they paced slowly along, discoursing on 
their late unhappy adventure, they came upon a pro- 
cession of priests, clothed in white surplices, and carrying 
torches in their hands, who were conducting a dead body 
to its last resting-place in Segovia. Six mourners went 
with them, draped from head to foot in weeds of woe ; 
and the whole company chanted a low and mournful 
strain as they followed the bier. 

Don Quixote concluded that they were robbers and 
murderers, and challenged them to halt ; and finding 
that they paid no attention to his summons, he at once 
assaulted the foremost priest, whose mule reared, and 
fell on him, breaking his leg. The knight then made 
a vigorous onslaught on the troop of timid and unarmed 
clerics, whom he beat and belaboured to his heart's 
content ; and having put them all to rout, he returned 
to question the fallen man, who was lying crushed under 
the weight of his mule. Learning from the priest's 
answers what a mistake he had made, he took leave of 
him with a handsome apology, and rode off, attended by 
Sancho, who had found most congenial employment in 
plundering the panniers of a sumpter-mule, laden with all 
sorts of good things for the refreshment of the sleek 
ecclesiastics, 

69 



70 Stories from Don Quixote 

" What was it that thou wast saying to the priest ? " 
asked Don Quixote of Sancho, " after we got him from 
under his mule, and laid him by the road-side ? " " I told 
him," answered Sancho, " that he had had the honour of 
being overthrown by the most valiant champion in the 
world, The Knight of the Doleful Visage." " And why," 
asked Don Quixote, "didst thou give me that strange 
title?" "Well, sir," replied Sancho, "I happened to 
look round, as your honour was stooping over him, and 
by the light of a torch which was blazing on the ground 
beside you, I saw your honour's face, and as I am a 
true man it was the most dismal countenance that I 
ever set eyes on." 

" It was a most happy inspiration," said his master 
gravely, " and I doubt not that it was due to the secret 
influence of that sage enchanter who is one day to give 
my deeds to the world in writing. For it was ever the 
custom among the famous knights of old to assume some 
such secondary title ; and this which thou hast chosen is 
pat to the purpose. As soon as I have opportunity, I 
will get painted on my shield the most doleful visage art 
can depict." 

" Nay, your honour," replied Sancho, " that would be 
painting the lily ; no one who sees you thus haggard and 
chapfallen, with half your teeth knocked out, will want 
any picture to show him that yours is the most woeful 
visage that ever man wore. But it is time that we 
sought some safe retreat ; for we have incurred the ban 
of the Church, and if we linger here we shall have to pay 
dear for it." 

Don Quixote saw the prudence of his squire's advice, 
and leaving the high-road they struck across country, and 



The Helmet of Mambrino 71 

came presently to a secluded valley, carpeted with rich 
grass, and thickly wooded with chestnut-trees. Here 
they dismounted, and sat down to enjoy the stolen 
dainties which Sancho had brought with him. But 
having nothing to drink, they soon began to be tor- 
mented by an intolerable thirst ; for they had been 
exposed all day to the burning sun, and the dishes 
of which they had partaken were highly seasoned. So 
they made haste to finish their supper, and went forward 
slowly, groping their way through the darkness, in the 
hope of finding some brook or spring. 

They had not advanced many paces, when suddenly 
they heard a sound of rushing water, accompanied by 
a tremendous banging and thumping, and the creaking of 
chains. This fearful uproar, heard all at once in that 
lonely place, at the black hour of midnight, made Sancho 
sweat with terror, and even caused some qualms of dread 
in Don Quixote's manly bosom. But he soon recalled 
his wonted spirit, and believing himself to be on the 
brink of some unparalleled adventure, he bade farewell 
to Sancho, and was about to rush into the midst of those 
unknown perils, when he was arrested by the strange 
behaviour of Rozinante, who seemed to be deprived all at 
once of the proper use of his legs. The fact was that 
the cunning Sancho, who was resolved at all costs not to 
be parted from his master in so dire a strait, being 
ordered by Don Quixote to tighten his horse's girths, had 
taken the opportunity of tying Rozinante's fore-legs 
together, so that for all the knight's urging and spurring 
he could only move in little hops and jerks, like a 
wounded rabbit. 

" What ails the brute ? " said Don Quixote, fretting 



72 Stories from Don Quixote 

and fuming at the delay. " Enchantment, your honour, 
more enchantment," said the rogue Sancho, chuckling to 
himself. " Thou art right," answered his master, with 
much solemnity. " We must wait until the dawn, when 
perhaps the spell will pass." And so there they remained 
for the rest of that night, Sancho clinging like a drowning 
man to Rozinante's saddle, and visited by new pangs of 
terror every time the hammering noises were renewed, 
and Don Quixote sitting like an equestrian statue, while 
his fancy roamed at large through visionary scenes of 
conquest and triumph. 

At the first glimmer of dawn Sancho removed " the 
spell " from Rozinante's legs ; and as the light grew 
stronger the whole wonder was revealed, in the shape of 
a fulling-mill, built over a waterfall, which turned the 
heavy wheel. It was the rattling of the wheel-chains, 
and the thud of six huge wooden mallets, which had 
created that appalling din, and kept them in suspense and 
terror all through the night. 

The sudden revulsion of feeling was too much for 
Sancho, and he burst into an immoderate fit of laughing, 
saluting his master's ears with peal after peal, and repeat- 
ing at intervals fragments of Don Quixote's high-flown 
eloquence. " Oho ! Sir Knight, born to revive the age of 

gold, and tread the high and perilous path of chivalry " 

But here he was cut short by two sound thwacks, de- 
livered by Don Quixote with great energy on his shoulders. 
" Keep thy saucy tongue in order, thou irreverent knave ! " 
cried the enraged knight, " and remember henceforth not 
to address me, or speak a word in my presence, without 
my leave. It is my indulgence which has bred in thee 
this unseemly licence." Having thus asserted his dignity 



The Helmet of Mambrino 73 

he turned his back and rode off, while Sancho followed in 
silence, wagging his head, and thrusting his tongue into 
his cheek. 



II 

It chanced that morning that a certain barber, who 
lived in a small country town in that district, was riding 
on his way to an outlying village, mounted on a piebald 
ass, and carrying with him the implements of his trade. 
His purpose was to visit two customers, one of whom was 
sick, and required bleeding, 1 while the other desired to be 
shaved. He was wearing a new hat, and as the day was 
showery, he had put his barber's basin on his head to 
keep the hat dry. It was a fine new basin, of polished 
brass, and when the sun broke through the clouds for a 
moment, it could be seen flashing half a league off. 

Thus ambling comfortably along, at peace with himself 
and all mankind, suddenly the poor barber became aware 
of a wild figure, clad in rusty armour and mounted on a 
skeleton steed, who was rushing upon him in full career, 
with lance in rest, and shouting in a terrible voice : 
" Defend thyself, foul caitiff, or give up that helmet, which 
by right is mine ! " Terrified by this fearful apparition, 
which seemed to have risen out of the ground, the wretched 
man had only just time to slip off his ass and thus save 
himself from being pierced through and through ; and no 
sooner had his feet touched the earth than he dropped the 
basin, and fled like a roebuck across the plain. 

His assailant, who of course was no other than Don 
Quixote himself, made no attempt to pursue him, but 

1 In those days barbers often performed the office of a surgeon, 
G 



74 Stories from Don Quixote 

stood eyeing the basin with great satisfaction. " The 
infidel has acted with prudence," he remarked to Sancho, 
" for like the beaver he has left his treasure behind him. 
Dismount, Sancho, and give me that precious helmet, the 
very helm of Mambrino which I was seeking." 

"'Tis an excellent basin," said Sancho, handing it to 
his master, " and worth a florin, if it is worth a penny." 
Don Quixote put the thing on his head, and turned it 
round and round, looking for the vizor ; but finding none, 
he said : " What a huge head the infidel must have had 
for whom this famous helmet was first made ! But 'tis a 
pity that half of it is gone." 

Hearing the basin called a helmet Sancho could not 
control his laughter, but warned by an angry look from 
his master he composed his features as well as he could, 
and explained that he was laughing to think of the 
enormous head which had once filled that capacious 
helmet-basin. " I have seen a hundred such helmets," he 
said, " hanging up at barbers' doors." 

" It seems to me," answered Don Quixote, taking the 
basin from his head, and gazing at it thoughtfully, u that 
this enchanted helm must at one time have fallen into the 
hands of some " base mechanical person," who seeing it to 
be of purest gold, as it is, turned half of it into money, 
and changed the other half into its present shape, which, 
as thou sayest, is strangely like a barber's basin. How- 
ever, the first smith whom we meet will be able to set 
that right, and make it into as fine a helmet as that which 
was forged by Vulcan for the god of battles. Meanwhile 
I will wear it as it is, for at any rate it will serve to keep 
off stones." 

" Ay," said Sancho, " unless they are flung from a 



The Helmet of Mambrino 75 

sling, like that which carried off your honour's teeth, and 
spilled that blessed balsam which raised such a tumult in 
my stomach." 

" I can soon repair that loss," replied his master, " for 
I know all the ingredients by heart." 

" So do I," answered Sancho ; " but let me die on the 
spot if ever I help to make it, or try it, again — and I am 
the less likely to want it, for I am resolved in future to 
be on my guard with all my five senses against the giving 
or taking of blows on any occasion whatsoever. As to 
blanketings, there is no guarding against them — but, let 
that fly stick to the wall ; what I want to know is, 
whether I may take that ass, which seems to be better 
than mine ? " 

" The dapple-grey charger, thou wouldst say ? " rejoined 
Don Quixote. " No, I cannot allow that ; it is against 
the laws of chivalry to deprive a fallen enemy of his 
mount. But thou mayest take the trappings, if thy need 
of them is very great." 

11 It is, indeed," said Sancho, and proceeded at once to 
transfer the trappings of the barber's ass, which were very 
handsome, to his own mount. When the exchange was 
effected, the two adventurers took the road again, leaving 
the direction to Rozinante, as was the common practice 
of knights-errant. . 



Don Quixote and the Convicts 

OUR knight was riding along in silence, thinking, 
like a devout lover, of his peerless Dulcinea, 
when, happening to raise his eyes, he saw 
coming towards him about a dozen men, who were strung 
together by their necks, like the beads of a rosary, on a 
long chain of iron, and all with manacles on their hands. 
With them came two men on horseback, who carried 
muskets, and two on foot, armed with javelins and 
swords. 

" It is a chain of galley-slaves," remarked Sancho, 
" who are being taken by force to work out the sentence 
for their crimes." 

" By force, sayest thou ? " answered Don Quixote. 
" Then this is a case for the exercise of my profession, 
which is to lend aid to all those who are the victims of 
unlawful violence." 

" There is no violence here," protested Sancho, " but 
the ordinary course of justice." But his words were lost 
on Don Quixote, who rode up to one of the warders, and 
requested, in very polite terms, to be allowed to question 
those unfortunates on the cause of their unhappy state. 
Permission being granted, he addressed the first man in 
the line, and asked what had brought him so low. " I 
was in love," began the fellow, grinning. " In love ? " 
repeated Don Quixote, who at once began to scent a 
romance. " Ay," said the galley-slave, " in love with a 

7 6 






Don Quixote and the Convicts 77 

basket of fair white linen, but the law snatched it from 
my embrace, and rewarded my constancy with a hundred 
lashes and three years at the galleys.'' 

Don Quixote passed on to the second convict, who 
wore a downcast and hang-dog expression, and would not 
answer a word, while his fellow-prisoners pointed at him 
with looks of derision, and cries of " Canary bird ! " This 
was a cant-term among thieves for one who had con- 
fessed under torture, and the man in question, who had 
been guilty of this weakness, was an object of contempt 
and abuse to his companions in misery. 

The next was an old man with a long white beard, 
reaching to his waist, who wrung his fettered hands, and 
wept without ceasing. But, despite his venerable appear- 
ance, he was an arch-rogue, guilty of the blackest crimes. 
After him came a smart fellow, about thirty years old, 
who would have been very handsome, but for a villainous 
cast in his eye. He was much more severely fettered 
than the others, for his feet were secured by a chain which 
wound upwards round his whole body, and on his neck 
he wore two iron rings, one of which was attached to the 
chain, while the other was connected with two iron bars 
descending to his waist, and ending in a pair of manacles 
in which his hands were confined by means of a heavy 
padlock. Seeing him trussed up in this dreadful manner, 
Don Quixote enquired who he was, and why he was 
treated with such rigour. " This is the notorious Gines 
de Pasamonte," answered one of the officers, " the most 
desperate ruffian in all Spain, and such a slippery knave 
that for all those trinkets which he wears we fear he will 
escape us yet." " Yes," said the rascal, with undaunted 
effrontery ; " I am that Gines, the fame of whose deeds 



j8 Stories from Don Quixote 

will one day be heard wherever the Spanish tongue is 
spoken. With my own hand I have written my story — 
the story of a great genius, persecuted, as such men are 
ever persecuted, by an ungrateful world." 

Altogether they were as fine a leash of gaol-birds as 
one could wish to see ; but not so did they appear to the 
chivalrous fancy of Don Quixote, who, when he had 
finished his enquiries, addressed the whole company as 
follows : — " Dear brothers, it seems to me, from all that 
you have told me, that you are all more sinned against 
than sinning ; and, however that may be, one thing is 
clear — you are going to the galleys by constraint, and 
not of your own freewill. Since, then, my vow compels 
me to succour all those who suffer constraint of any sort, 
I must request these gentlemen who are conducting you 
to your place of punishment to unlock that chain and set 
you free ; and if they will not do it for courtesy, they shall 
do it for fear of this lance and this sword, which I bear 
as the symbols and the instruments of my high office." 

" A rare jest, indeed ! " said the commissary. " So we 
are to let go the king's prisoners, are we ? And who gave 
you the right to make such a demand ? Go your way, 
sir, and leave us to go ours ; set that brass basin straight 
which you wear on your head, and don't go about 
looking for a cat with five feet." 

"Cat yourself!" shouted Don Quixote, " and rat, and 
scoundrel to boot ! " and without giving the officer time 
to stand on his defence, he ran at him with his lance and 
thrust him to the ground, severely wounded. The other 
guards, seeing their leader thus treated, took to their 
weapons, and our champion of innocence would have paid 
dear for his rashness if the galley-slaves, who had con- 



Don Quixote and the Convicts 79 

trived to break their chain, had not come to his aid with 
a shower of stones. Sancho played his part in the rescue 
by seizing a bunch of keys which hung at the fallen 
commissary's belt, and unlocking Pasamonte's fetters ; and 
that bold villain no sooner found himself at liberty than 
he seized the musket which had been dropped by the 
wounded officer, and by aiming it now at one of the 
warders, now at another, completed their discomfiture, so 
that they took to their heels, and left the convicts and 
their deliverers masters of the field. 

The first use which Don Quixote's new friends made of 
their liberty was to strip the wounded police-officer to his 
skin, and after this act of retributive justice they gathered 
in a circle round their benefactor, to hear what he had to 
say. " Gentlemen/' he began, " there is nothing more 
offensive to heaven than ingratitude for benefits received, 
and that this sin may not be laid to your charge, mark 
well what I require of you, in requital for the great boon 
which you have received at my hands. It is my wish, 
and my command, that you take up this chain, which I 
loosed from your necks, and go forthwith to the city of 
Toboso, and there present yourselves before the Lady 
Dulcinea ; tell her that I, her knight — he of the Doleful 
Visage — send my humble greetings, relate to her the 
whole course of this famous adventure, which has made 
you free men, and when you have done this you may go 
where you please." 

" Sir," said Pasamonte, answering for them all, " what 
you ask is of all impossibilities the most impossible. 
How can we, who have just escaped from the clutches of 
the law, go trooping along the roads in a body, loaded 
with this chain ? What we have to do is to scatter and 



80 Stories from Don Quixote 

hide ourselves singly in dens and holes of the earth, for 
the whole countrv will be raised against us. But to 
expect us to go junketing to Toboso is to look for stars 
at noonday, or to seek pears on an elm-tree." 

" By heaven ! " cried Don Quixote, in a fury, u I tell 
you ; sir rascal, you shall do as I bid you, and go alone to 
Toboso, with that chain on your back and your tail 
between your legs." 

Hearing himself thus threatened and insulted, Pasamonte 
made a signal to his companions, who retired to a distance, 
and assailed the knight with such a volley of stones that 
he was soon brought to the ground, and while he lay 
there Pasamonte took the basin from his head, and after 
beating him with it on the shoulders, dashed it on the 
road, so that it was almost broken to pieces. Then the 
whole troop fell upon him, stripped off a cloak which he 
wore over his armour, and would have taken his hose, but 
were hindered from doing so by his greaves ; and having 
robbed Sancho of his coat, they divided the spoil among 
them, and made off in different directions, being much 
more anxious to avoid the Holy Brotherhood than to pay 
their respects to Dulcinea del Toboso. 

So there lay the knight, once more the victim of his 
own vaulting ambition ; and there lay the steed, over- 
thrown by the same felon hands. Close by stood the ass, 
drooping his head pensively, and flapping his ears, as if 
he expected a renewal of the hailstorm which had lately 
rattled on his ribs ; and behind him crouched Sancho, 
stripped to his shirt, and thinking with terror of the Holy 
Brotherhood, to whose vengeance they were exposed by 
their last feat of knight-errantry. 



Don Quixote does Penance in the 
Sierra Morena 

DON QUIXOTE was so dejected by the vile 
return which he had received from the released 
convicts that he suffered himself to be guided by 
Sancho, who urged the expediency of hiding themselves 
for a time in the mountain solitudes of the Sierra Morena, 
a wild and desolate region lying between La Mancha 
and Andalusia. They plunged, accordingly, into the 
wilderness, and after travelling all day, halted for the 
night in a rocky gorge, overshadowed by a grove of 
cork-trees. 

Early next morning Don Quixote was roused from his 
slumbers by the voice of Sancho, who was crying in loud 
and lamentable tones : " O thou child of my heart, born 
in my own house, plaything of my children, delight of my 
wife, envy of my neighbours, relief of my burdens, and 
supporter of half my life ! — for with the six and twenty 
maravedis which thou didst earn for me every day I paid 
the half of my expenses." 

This tender apostrophe was addressed to the ass 
Dapple, who was nowhere to be seen, having been 
spirited away, as if by enchantment, while they slept. 

Don Quixote comforted his squire as well as he could, 
and promised to supply the place of the lamented Dapple 
by giving him an order for three ass-colts out of five 
which he had left at home. Then he mounted Rozinante 



82 Stories from Don Quixote 

and wandered forth at random in quest of adventures ; 
and Sancho followed on foot, carrying his wallet, in 
which there were still some remnants of the provisions 
captured in their encounter with the priests. 

They had not gone far when they saw lying on the 
ground a leathern valise, decayed and almost falling to 
pieces from long exposure to the weather. Stopping to 
examine its contents, they found in it a quantity of fine 
linen, a pocket-book full of writing, and a hundred gold 
crowns tied up in a handkerchief. Don Quixote took 
possession of the pocket-book, which he found to con- 
tain love-letters and copies of verses, addressed by a 
despairing lover to some fair and disdainful lady. The 
linen and money he delivered to his squire, who thought 
himself well repaid for all his sufferings and hardships by 
so splendid a prize. 

Some distance further they met a goatherd, from whom 
they learnt that the owner of the property was a youth 
of good rank and fortune named Cardenio, who had lost 
his wits in consequence of an unhappy love affair, and 
now lived, like a wild beast, in these inhospitable regions, 
dependent on the shepherds for his daily bread. Hardly 
had the goatherd concluded his account when they saw a 
wild figure approaching, half naked, unkempt, and burnt 
black by the sun, who proved to be no other than the 
unhappy Cardenio himself. Happening, when they saw 
him, to be in a lucid interval (for his madness was inter- 
mittent), he responded kindly to their greetings, and, 
yielding to Don Quixote's persuasions, consented to tell 
his miserable story of a woman's weakness, and the 
treachery of a friend. 

In the course of his narrative Cardenio made an allusion 



Don Quixote does Penance 83 

to the romances of chivalry, and this led to a violent 
quarrel between him and Don Quixote. Sancho and the 
goatherd were drawn into the dispute, but the mad lover, 
who was now at the height of his frenzy, was more than 
a match for all three, and having beaten them soundly, 
he rushed off, and was seen no more that day. 



II 

The meeting with Cardenio suggested to Don Quixote 
a design, which was destined, as he told Sancho, to set the 
seal to his knight-errantries, and make his name illustrious 
throughout the world. Following the example of Amadis, 
who retired to a desert island to mourn the cruelty of his 
lady Oriana, our knight resolved to employ the time of 
his sojourn in the Sierra Morena as a period of penance 
and mortification for the coldness and disdain of the 
lovely Dulcinea. 

" But why," argued Sancho, who found this new freak 
of his master's little to his taste, " why should your 
honour go to all this trouble for nothing? Amadis and 
all the other crazy knights whom you admire so much, 
had at least some method in their madness, having reason 
to believe that their ladies had treated them badly ; but 
what proof have you that Dulcinea has wronged you in 
any way ? " 

" I have no proof at all," answered Don Quixote, " and 
therein lies the cream of the whole matter. Any man 
can go mad on compulsion — there is nothing fine in that ; 
but to go mad without any reason at all is a rare flight 
of genius, worthy of a delicate and subtle spirit. To this 
height I intend to soar, and there will I remain suspended 



84 Stories from Don Quixote 

until such time as thou returnest with an answer to a 
letter which I purpose to write to that sweet flower of 
Toboso. If her reply be such as I hope, then my 
penance comes to an end — if not, I shall go mad in good 
earnest, and thereby become insensible of pain ; so that, 
in either case, all will be well." 

They then fell to discussing the details of that great 
design, and while thus engaged, they came presently 
upon a pleasant green meadow, overshadowed by a grove 
of trees, and watered by a little stream, which descended 
from the side of a rugged cliff. It was a little oasis in 
the midst of that arid desert, bright with many coloured 
flowers, fragrant with the breath of aromatic herbs, and 
filled with the music of murmuring waters and whisper- 
ing leaves. To Don Quixote it seemed to have been 
created on purpose to be the scene of his intended 
penance ; and so without more ado he began to assume 
the part of a distracted lover, and cried in a loud voice : 
" Behold me, ye guardian powers, nymphs and naiads who 
haunt this sweet recess, 1 behold me, a love-lorn swain, 
come hither to swell with his tears the tiny waves of yon 
brook, and to rock the boughs of these mountain trees with 
everlasting sighs, torn from my bruised and tortured heart!" 
As he said this, he dismounted from Rozinante, removed 
his saddle and bridle, and after one slap on his withered 
haunches let him go, saying : "I, the enslaved, thus give 
thee thy liberty, brave steed, alike illustrious by thy deeds 
and unhappy in thy lot ! Worthy art thou to receive 
this boon of freedom, for in valour thou art a Bucephalus, 
and a Pegasus in speed." 

Rozinante received his master's eulogy with becoming 

1 Milton, Paradise Regained, iv. 242. 



Don Quixote does Penance 85 

modesty, and was moving off in the direction of the brook, 
feeding as he went, when Sancho asked Don Quixote if it 
was really his intention to send a letter to Dulcinea ? 
" Without doubt it is," replied he of the Doleful Visage. 
" Why dost thou ask ? " " Because," said Sancho, " if I 
am to carry the letter, you had better lend me Rozinante 
to carry me to Toboso ; for if I go on foot, your honour 
will be mad in good earnest before ever I get back." 

" It shall be as thou sayest," answered Don Quixote, 
" and three days hence thou shalt set out." " And why 
not at once ? " asked Sancho. " How dull thou art," said 
the knight ; " dost thou not see that thou must first be a 
witness of all that I have to do in my frenzy, as the rending 
of my garments, the scattering of my arms, and the dashing 
of my head against these rocks ? " 

" For heaven's sake, dear master," cried his squire, 
11 mind what you are doing with these dashings, or you 
will make an end of the play before it is well begun. If 
you must dash your head against anything, let it be on 
something soft and yielding, such as water or cotton-wool. 
I promise you that the story shall lose nothing in the 
telling, but your lady shall hear that you have hammered 
your skull on a rock as hard as an anvil." 

After some further discussion, Don Quixote consented 
to let Sancho have his way, and forthwith set to work to 
compose the letter, which, with the order for the ass-colts, 
was written on a blank leaf of Cardenio's pocket-book. 
" This thou must get copied in a fair hand," said Don 
Quixote, when the letter was finished, " in the first village 
on thy way to Toboso. It will not matter that the letter is 
written in a strange hand, for Dulcinea can neither write 
nor read — in fact, though I have known her and loved her 



86 Stories from Don Ouixote 

for twelve years, I believe she hardly knows me by sight ; 
at least she has never returned the modest glances by 
which, some four or five times, I ventured to declare my 
passion. Such is the cloistered retirement in which she 
has lived with her father, Lorenzo Corchuelo, and her 
mother, Aldonza Nogales." 

" What ? M cried Sancho, in astonishment, for he had 
never heard Dulcinea's real name before, " is this the lady 
whom your honour worships — the farmer's daughter, 
Aldonza Lorenzo ? " 

" She, and no other," replied Don Ouixote, " and well 
she deserves such worship, more than any lady in all the 
world.' 5 

" Right well I know her," said Sancho; " not the lustiest 
lad in Toboso can toss the bar better than she. By all 
that's good, there's pith in the lass, and any knight-errant 
of them all who takes her for his sweetheart will find his 
match in her. Marry, hang the hussy, what a fist she has, 
and what a voice ! I remember one day when she went 
and stood on the village steeple to call some of her father's 
men from a field ; and though they were more than a mile 
off, they heard her as plain as if they had been standing 
at the foot of the tower. And the best thing about her 
is that she doesn't give herself airs, but laughs and jests 
with everybody, quite like a maid of honour. Well, Sir 
Knight of the Doleful Visage, I admire your taste ; you 
have a fair excuse for raving and despairing, ay, for 
hanging yourself — no one can blame you, though you 
steer straight to perdition for such a maid as this. Right 
glad shall I be to see her again, for I have not set eyes 
on her for many a day ; but I expect that by this time 
she has got blowsed with being out in all weathers. But 



Don Quixote does Penance 87 

I can't help telling you, Sir Don Quixote, that all this is 
a great surprise to me. I always supposed that your 
honour was in love with some great lady, whose rank and 
station made it natural that you should send her these 
rich spoils and trains of captives, such as the Biscayan and 
the galley-slaves. But what use are these princely gifts 
to a farmer's daughter ? And what will the conquered 
knights think when they come to bend their knees to her, 
and find her cleaning flax or flourishing a flail on the 
threshing floor ? What fools they will look when she 
laughs at them, and sends them off with a flea in their 
ear ! " 

" O Sancho, Sancho," answered Don Quixote, u what a 
chatterer thou art ! Thou thinkest thyself a very shrewd 
fellow, but indeed thou art blind as a mole. What is all 
this stuff which thou hast told me concerning Aldonza 
Lorenzo ? Thou hast seen her with the coarse eyes of 
the flesh, but thou knowest her not — I say, thou knowest 
her not ! She is my beloved, my chosen, the light of 
mine eyes, and the loadstar of my life. I love her, and 
by the power of that love she is fairer than Helen, purer 
than Lucretia, and of loftier lineage than any princess of 
the blood. Peace, then, I say, and pollute not this bright 
image of perfection with thy grosser breath." 

Sancho asked pardon for the liberty he had taken, and 
begged to hear the contents of the letter, which ran as 
follows : — 

" Sovereign and Sublime Lady, 

" Wounded by the envenomed spear of absence, with 
every fibre of my heart torn and bleeding, I, sweetest 
Dulcinea del Toboso. wish thee health, though past healing 



88 Stories from Don Quixote 

myself. Disdained by thy beauty, humbled by thy worth, 
tortured by thy scorn, I foresee that the term of my 
penance must needs be brief. Yes, my beloved enemy, 
death, will soon set a period to my sufferings, unless thou 
stoop to raise me from the abyss into which thy cruelty 
and my affection have plunged me. That this is true, 
thou wilt learn from the report of my trusty squire Sancho, 
who will tell thee in what state he left me. 

" Thine till death, 

11 The Knight of the Doleful Visage." 

" Bless my heart ! " cried Sancho, when he had heard 
the letter, " this is the grandest piece of writing that ever 
I listened to. Why, your honour, there's nothing you 
can't put into words ; and that K?iight of the Doleful 
Visage comes pat to the purpose. Such penmanship as 
yours is hardly canny, and I believe your honour deals in 
black magic. If you will please to write the order for 
the ass-colts I can take the road at once." 

" Wait until thou hast seen me play the madman for 
half an hour," said his master ; " thou wilt then be better 
able to describe my condition to Dulcinea." " Trust me for 
that ! :; said Sancho, stoutly. " I promise you that I will 
make such a report that her hair shall stand on end ; and 
if that won't do, Til tear it out by the roots, rather than 
let your honour want the answer which you expect and 
deserve. I'll teach her what is due to a gentleman and a 
knight-errant, — the impudent baggage, who is she that a 
man of your valour and renown should go mad for her, 
and get nothing for his pains ? ,J 

" On my word, Sancho," said Don Quixote, " I believe 



Don Quixote does Penance 89 

that thou art as mad as I am." " Not so mad," answered 
Sancho, " but with more gall in my nature. But tell me 
now, what will your honour have to eat while I am 
away ? " 

Don Quixote assured him that the roots and berries 
which grew in that place would be more than sufficient 
for the nourishment of a lover doing penance ; and 
Sancho, saddling Rozinante, and taking leave of his 
master, set out on his journey. Having advanced about 
a hundred paces, he drew rein, and looked back to see 
what the knight was doing. Don Quixote was already 
stripped to his shirt, and playing such wild antics that 
Sancho was fairly scandalised, and rode off without once 
looking back again. 



H 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 

i 

ON the day after he. left Don Quixote Sancho 
arrived at the inn where he had received the 
blanket-tossing ; and recognising the place he 
halted outside the gates in a sad quandary, his mouth 
watering at the smell of baked meats, and his mind 
haunted by the terrors of that "enchanted castle." While 
he stood thus, divided between his hunger and his fears, 
he heard his name called by a familiar voice : " What are 
you doing here, friend Sancho Panza, and where have 
you left your master ? " The speaker proved to be the 
barber of his own village, who was travelling on business 
with his friend the priest. 

At first Sancho refused to tell Don Quixote's where- 
abouts ; but being warned that if he persisted in his 
silence he would be suspected of murdering his master, 
he blurted out the whole story of the knight's penance 
and the letter to Dulcinea, not forgetting his own great 
hopes of promotion when his master had won an empire 
or kingdom by the valour of his arm. The priest, who 
had followed the barber out of the inn, asked Sancho to 
show him the letter ; but after searching in all his pockets 
Sancho found, to his horror and dismay, that he had 
forgotten to bring it with him, having left it, with the 
order for the ass-colts, in Don Quixote's hands. 

9° 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 91 

" Well, never mind the letter/' said the priest, when he 
learnt the cause of Sancho's distress ; " that can easily be 
replaced, and your master will give you another order for 
the ass-colts. What concerns you immediately is to cut 
short this useless penance, for until that is ended he can 
never become an emperor or archbishop, and you will be 
kept waiting for the reward of your services." 

At the word " archbishop " Sancho's face fell, and he 
asked what gifts were usually bestowed by archbishops- 
errant on their squires. Being informed that in such 
cases the squire was made happy with a fat church- 
living, he urgently entreated the priest not to say 
anything about the archbishopric to Don Quixote. " For 
if," he explained, " he should choose to be an archbishop, 
I shall be left out in the cold, as I can neither write nor 
read, and am therefore not qualified to receive church 
preferment." 

" Fear nothing," said the priest, who, for his own 
purposes, chose to encourage Sancho in his mad humour, 
" we will make an emperor of him, nothing less." This 
weighty matter being settled, the barber and priest put 
their heads together, and presently hit upon a plan to 
draw Don Quixote from his solitude, and decoy him 
back to his native village, where they hoped to find 
means to cure him of his strange malady. Having 
borrowed some antiquated finery from the hostess of the 
inn, the priest attired himself as a damsel-errant, covering 
his face with a mask ; and the barber, who was to play 
the part of squire, furnished himself with a long beard, 
made from the hairy tail of an ox. Their plan was to 
present themselves before Don Quixote, and beg his 
assistance against a wicked knight, who had wronged the 



92 Stories from Don Quixote 

damsel grievously. Having rehearsed their parts, they 
packed up their costumes, and started early next morning, 
taking Sancho as their guide. After a toilsome journey 
they entered a wild mountain gorge, some distance from 
the place which Don Quixote had chosen for his penance. 
Here they halted, and sent Sancho to find his master, 
instructing him to say that he bore a peremptory message 
from Dulcinea, commanding her knight, under pain of 
her displeasure, to leave his - retirement, and repair at 
once to her presence ; for by this means they hoped to 
get Don Quixote back to his home without further 
trouble. Then choosing a cool and shady spot, they 
sat down to wait for the squire's return. 

They had not waited long when they were surprised 
to hear the sound of a man's voice, singing with remark- 
able taste and power ; and being curious to learn the 
meaning of so strange a performance in these savage wilds, 
they left their places, and went in search of the singer. 
He proved to be no other than the unfortunate Cardenio, 
and the priest, who had learnt something of his story 
from Sancho, drew him on by skilful questions and ex- 
pressions of sympathy to explain how he came to be 
living in that abject state. He was a youth of good 
family and fortune, who had succeeded in winning the 
love of a certain Lucinda, a lady of great beauty, and 
his equal in rank. Cardenio's bosom friend was Don 
Fernando, the younger son of a duke and grandee of 
Spain ; and having entire confidence in his honour, in 
an evil hour he introduced this false friend to Lucinda. 
Fernando forthwith conceived a violent passion for the 
lady, and inventing some pretext to send Cardenio on 
a distant journey, he took advantage of his absence to 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 93 

present himself as a suitor for Luanda's hand. His 
suit was favoured by her father, and when Cardenio 
returned from his journey, he was just in time to witness 
the betrothal of his promised bride with the treacherous 
Fernando. Believing himself to be doubly betrayed, 
he fled from the spot, and took refuge in these soli- 
tudes, where he had remained ever since, living more 
like a beast than a man. 

Such, in briefest outline, was the tragical history of 
Cardenio and Lucinda ; and it was hardly concluded, 
when their ears were invaded by loud cries of distress, 
coming from the direction of a little stream which ran 
through the bottom of the valley. Following the sound, 
they soon came in sight of a young lad of very engaging 
appearance, dressed as a peasant, and sitting under a 
rock, which had hitherto concealed him from view. He 
was employed in bathing his feet, which were whiter 
than alabaster, and paused from time to time to utter 
piteous sobs and moans. When he had finished his 
bath he removed his hat, and took from it a handkerchief 
to dry his feet ; and in doing this he set free a wealth of 
lovely tresses, which rolled to his waist like a cascade 
of gold, setting off one of the sweetest faces that ever 
were seen. By these signs they saw that the pretended 
peasant lad was a woman, and advanced to address her ; 
but at the sound of their footsteps she turned her head, 
and seeing three men approaching, sprang from her place 
and ,fled, barefooted as she was, with her long hair 
streaming in the wind, The ground was stony and 
uneven, and she had not run half a dozen steps when 
she stumbled and fell. They assisted her to rise, and 
the kind face and gentle words of the priest soon 



94 Stories from Don Quixote 

banished her terrors. Having arranged her dress, and 
put up her hair, she seated herself on a stone, and 
motioning to the priest and his companions to take 
their places near her, began to tell her story. 

She was the daughter and only child of a rich farmer 
in Andalucia, who was a vassal of the duke already 
mentioned in Cardenio's narrative. Up to the time of 
her misfortune she had led a life of happy usefulness, 
unclouded by sorrow and care ; for, her parents being 
old, she had for some years been entrusted with the 
entire management of her father's large estate, and all 
the accounts passed through her hands. Then her evil 
destiny threw her in the way of the villain Fernando, 
whom we have already seen playing so vile a part in 
his relations with Cardenio. After long repulsing his 
advances, she was at last persuaded to enter into 
a secret marriage with the young profligate ; but he, 
having achieved his purpose, soon grew tired of his 
plaything, and deserted her, after destroying the proofs 
of the marriage. The hapless Dorothea (for this was 
her name), finding herself abandoned to shame and 
misery, fled from her home, and went in search of her 
betrayer, resolved to make one despairing appeal to his 
sense of honour and duty. But on arriving at the town 
where Fernando was living, she learnt to her horror that 
he was about to become the husband of another lady, 
named Lucinda, whose father was one of the chief men 
in the place. Her hopes were somewhat revived when 
she found, on further enquiry, that the marriage was 
broken off, in consequence of a solemn declaration from 
Lucinda that she was already another man's wife. She 
w r as about to act on this information, when she heard the 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 95 

public cryer calling her name in the streets, with a full 
description of her dress and person, and stating that she 
had absconded from her parents in the company of a 
young peasant lad, one of her father's servants. Seeing 
herself thus put to public shame, she again took flight, 
and hid herself in the mountains, and after many perils 
and adventures wandered to the place where she was 
found by our three friends. 

II 

When Dorothea had ended her story, Cardenio made 
himself known to her as Luanda's lover, and offered to 
champion her cause with heart and hand. Both of them 
had been much comforted by finding sympathetic hearers 
of their tale of woe, and began to entertain more hopeful 
views as to their future. Being in this happy mood they 
lent a ready ear to the counsels of the priest, who urged 
them to return to their friends ; and just as they had 
reached this point they heard the voice of Sancho Panza, 
who had returned from his errand, and not finding the 
priest and barber in the place where he had left thiem, 
was wandering about distractedly shouting their names 
at the top of his voice. They halloed to him to let him 
know their whereabouts, and presently he came panting 
up, full of news of his master, whom he had found roaming 
about in his shirt, yellow, wasted, and half dying of hunger, 
sighing for his lady Dulcinea. He had refused, said 
Sancho, to obey the summons from his lady until he had 
done some deed which would make him w r orthy to appear 
in her presence. 

Dorothea now heard the story of Don Quixote's mad- 



g6 Stories from Don Quixote 

ness, and the plan which they had formed to decoy him 
back to his village. She entered with great heartiness into 
the plot, and suggested as an improvement that she herself 
should play the part of distressed damsel, a character which 
she was well able to sustain, being a lively and clever girl, 
and well-read in the books of chivalry. They thankfully 
accepted her offer, and she forthwith prepared herself for 
her part by assuming the dress and ornaments proper to 
her sex, and which she had brought with her in a bundle 
when she fled from her home. 

When this transformation was effected, and she came 
forth from the shelter of a thicket, whither she had retired 
to make her toilette, they were all delighted with her 
loveliness and grace, especially Sancho Panza, who stood 
gaping at her with open-mouthed admiration, and asked 
who that beauteous lady was ? 

" That beauteous lady, brother Sancho," answered the 
priest, gravely, " is a princess, no worse issued, 1 and heir- 
apparent to the great kingdom of Micomicon, who has 
travelled ten thousand leagues to find your master, and 
ask his aid against an evil-minded giant, from whom she 
hath endured grievous wrong." 

" He'll kill the rascal giant," said Sancho. " My master 
will settle his business — unless the rogue is a phantom, 
for against phantoms we can do nothing. But hark ye, 
worthy Master Licentiate, 2 would it not be best to wed this 
fair lady out of hand with the knight, and so put it out of 
his power to become an archbishop ? I am plaguily afraid 
of that archbishopric, which would never bring me in a 
doit, after all my trouble ; and so I say tie the knot at 

1 Shakespeare, Tempest. 

- A title borne bv Churchmen of a certain rank. 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 97 

once, marry him to this lady, and make an emperor of 
him willy-nilly." 

The priest promised to do all in his power to bring 
about so happy a consummation, and without further delay 
Dorothea started for the place where Don Quixote was 
performing penance. With her went Sancho as guide, 
and the barber, disguised by his ox-tail beard, in the 
character of squire. The priest and Cardenio followed at 
some distance, keeping out of sight, lest their presence 
should interfere with the plot. 

They found the knight sitting pensively, clothed, but 
without his armour, at the foot of a tall rock ; and as soon 
as Dorothea saw him she dismounted from the priest's 
mule, on which she was riding, and approaching Don 
Quixote threw herself at his feet, and said : " You see 
before you, O star of chivalry, the distressed and unhappy 
Princess Micomicona, who will never rise from her knees 
until you have granted the boon which she seeks from 
your valour and mightiness." 

" Rise, lady," said Don Quixote, " for as long as you 
remain in this posture I cannot hold conference with you." 

" I will not rise," answered the lovely Micomicona, 
" until you have promised to fulfil my request." 

" I promise," replied Don Quixote, " provided that 
there be nothing in it which involves damage or loss to 
my king, my country, or to Her who holds the key to my 
heart and liberty." 

Micomicona reassured him on this point, and then pro- 
ceeded to prefer her request, which was that he should 
engage in no other adventure until he had expelled from 
her kingdom a foul usurper, who had thrust her with 
violence and outrage from her throne. 



98 Stories from Don Quixote 

" You may consider it done," said the knight, cheerfully. 
" I will not rest until I see you enthroned in kingly 
state." With that he raised the royal damsel from her 
suppliant posture, embraced her with much grace and 
courtesy, and commanded Sancho to tighten the girths of 
Rozinante, and bring his armour, which was hanging on 
a tree. 

All this time the barber, as became his humble rank of 
squire, had been kneeling at -a distance, fully occupied 
with the double difficulty of restraining his laughter and 
holding on his false beard. When Don Quixote had 
donned his armour he rose from his knees, and went to 
help his lady into the saddle. Then, mounting his own 
mule, he rode off behind the princess and her champion, 
and Sancho brought up the rear on foot, pondering what 
course he should take when he became a grandee of 
Micomicon. He was somewhat concerned to think that 
the inhabitants of that country were negroes ; but he soon 
consoled himself by reflecting that he could sell ten or 
twenty thousand of them as slaves, and grow as rich as a 
Jew on the proceeds. " Blacks, indeed ! " he muttered : 
" I'll soon turn them into whites and yellows 1 — or you 
may call me a mammy-sick noodle." 



Ill 

Having passed through the broken ground, Don 
Quixote and his party struck into the high road, and as 
they were riding along at an easy pace, they saw coming 
towards them a man lightly attired in doublet and hose, 

1 Silver and gold. 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 99 

whom the knight recognised to his astonishment as the 
priest of his village. Behind him came a man of youth- 
ful figure, wearing his hat slouched over his face, and 
closely muffled in a long black cloak. For the priest, 
seeing the interview between Don Quixote and Dorothea 
drawing to an end, had hit upon this means of disguising 
Cardenio, having heard from him of his former meeting 
with Don Quixote, and fearing the effect of a sudden 
recognition. As a further precaution, he had divested 
the youth of a long ragged beard which had been 
allowed to grow during his wanderings in the mountains, 
clipping it so close with a pair of scissors that his appear- 
ance was quite altered. Then, taking a short cut, they 
had outstripped the knight and his companions, and lain 
in wait for them by the roadside. 

The two friends greeted each other with much hearti- 
ness, and at Don Quixote's suggestion Dorothea directed 
her squire, the bearded barber, to give up his saddle to 
the priest, and mount behind him. This led to an acci- 
dent, which was within a little of betraying the whole 
plot ; for, as the pretended squire was preparing to get 
up on the crupper, his mule, which was a vicious beast, 
lashed out with his hind hoofs, and the barber went 
flying head over heels, losing his beard on the way. 
With ready presence of mind, he clapped his hands to his 
face and cried out that all his teeth were smashed ; and 
the priest, coming to the rescue, picked up the beard, and 
fitted it on again in a trice, muttering certain words which 
he said were " the sovereign'st thing on earth " to make a 
beard take root again. 

Don Quixote watched these proceedings with no small 
amazement, and when he saw the barber bearded as 



loo Stories from Don Quixote 

before, he said, with much gravity, " Now this is the 
greatest miracle that ever I beheld ! — a great beard torn 
bodily from a man's chops without a sign of blood or 
laceration, and a moment after he is wagging his beard 
and grinning at us, as if nothing had happened ! You 
must teach me this charm, reverend sir, for methinks that 
it would be of profit for greater things than beards. But 
tell me, how comes it that you are travelling in this 
strange garb, and what business has brought you so far 
from home ? " 

The priest explained that he had been on his way to 
Seville, to take up a large sum of money which had been 
sent him by a relation from the Indies, when he had been 
waylaid by a band of escaped convicts, who had stripped 
him of his money and outer garments, and left him in 
doublet and hose. " And it is the common report," 
added he, " that these rascals who robbed us belong to a 
troop of galley-slaves, who were set free on their way to 
the sea-port by a man of such desperate valour that he 
was able to overpower a strong force of police who were 
conducting them. Heaven pardon him, whoever he was, 
for this wild and lawless deed ! " This he said to try 
Don Quixote, having heard from Sancho the whole course 
of the adventure with the galley-slaves ; and the knight 
sat silent and embarrassed, looking rather foolish, and 
ashamed to confess that it was he who had given liberty 
to those rogues. But Sancho, who could never keep his 
tongue quiet, here took the word, and said, " I told you, 
Master Licentiate, that it was my master who set loose 
those gallows-birds, though not without my warning him 
to take heed what he did, for it was a great crime, so it 
was, to cheat the law of its due." 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 101 

" I tell thee, booby," cried Don Quixote, in high dis- 
dain, " that it is no part of a knight-errant's duty to 
enquire whether the oppressed and afflicted are suffering 
for their sins, or persecuted by the malice of fortune. My 
office is to relieve the weak and miserable, and not to 
probe the cause of their sorrows. He who says otherwise 
— saving the dignity of holy Church, and of this her 
worthy representative — is a recreant and a liar." And 
saying this he fixed himself more firmly in his 
saddle, flourished his lance, and glared fiercely round, 
as if he were defying the world to contradict 
him. 

Dorothea now interposed to soothe the irritation of the 
enraged knight. " Remember," she said gently, " that 
your oath forbids you to engage in any quarrel until 
you have restored me to my rights. I am sure that if 
the reverend Licentiate had known by whose arm the 
galley-slaves were liberated, he would have sewn up his 
mouth rather than utter a word which might redound to 
your discredit." 

" That I would," said the priest ; " yes, indeed, I would 
have bitten off my moustache first." Then, wishing to 
divert Don Quixote's attention from this dangerous topic, 
Dorothea told a wonderful story of her own life and 
adventures. Her father, she said, king of Micomicon, was 
a great seer, who foretold the day and hour of his own 
death, and warned her that after his decease she would 
be exposed to the attacks of a fierce and powerful enemy, 
the giant Pandafilando, surnamed The Scowler, who was 
lord of a great island bordering on the kingdom of Mico- 
micon. " Against this terrible foe," continued she, " my 
father bade me invoke the aid of a renowned warrior, 



102 Stories from Don Quixote 

named, I think, Don Azote, 1 or Don Gigote 2 " 

" Quixote, he must have said," remarked Sancho, correct- 
ing her. " Yes, Quixote was the name," said the lady. 
" And I was to recognise him by a mole which he had 
on his left shoulder." " Sancho," said Don Quixote, when 
he heard this, " help me off with my clothes, that I may 
see whether I have such a mole or not" " No need to 
do that," answered Sancho ; " I have seen the mark myself 
— only it is in the middle of your honour's backbone." 
" That is sufficient," said Dorothea, somewhat hastily. 
" With friends one is not so particular, and I am sure 
that I have found the right man, for my father gave a full 
description of the knight's face and figure. And he said 
further, that if my champion, after cutting Pandafilando's 
throat, should desire to make me his wife, I was on no 
account to refuse him, but freely to bestow on him my 
person and my kingdom." 

" Hear'st thou, Sancho ? " shouted Don Quixote. " Shall 
we take this offer of a queen and a kingdom, or dost thou 
want something better ? " 

" Take it ? " shouted Sancho, kicking up his heels, and 
smacking the soles of his feet. " 111 betide the loon who 
refuses it ! 'Tis a very pretty proposal — and a very 
pretty proposer," he added, leering up at Dorothea, who 
had hard work to contain her laughter. 

Don Quixote gazed thoughtfully at the supposed 
princess, who seemed at once so lovely and so complaisant ; 
then he started, as if suddenly reminded of something, 
and, bending towards Dorothea, said in a bland, caressing 
tone : " It grieves me much, fair and gracious lady, that 
I am not free to accept the priceless gift of your royal 

1 Whip-lash. 2 Sheep-shank. 



Sancho meets the Priest and Barber 103 

hand, offered with such winning modesty ; but as long as 
another, and if possible yet lovelier image " — at this point 
he laid his hand on his heart — " is imprinted here, I can 
form no second tie." 

" What ! " exclaimed Sancho, driven beyond all patience 
by his master's fantastic scruples. " Not wed the princess ? 
Has your honour lost your wits ? Do you suppose that 
you are going to pick up queens and sceptres at every 
street corner? What the mischief! — still doting on 
Dulcinea, who is not fit to tie this lady's shoestrings ? 
Take her, I say ; take her and wed her this instant, and 
give me that countship which you promised me." 

When Don Quixote heard this impious language 
applied to his lady of Toboso, he lifted his lance and laid 
it with such force on Sancho's shoulders that he fell flat 
on his face. " Take that — vagabond, dog, scullion, 
blaspheming knave ! " he yelled, foaming with rage. 
" Will nothing check the foul torrent of thy contumelies ? 
Know, scurrilous clown, that but for the inspiration of the 
sacred name which thou traducest, I should not have 
strength to slaughter a flea ! And is this thy gratitude 
to her whose worth enables me to win for thee titles, 
honours, and wealth ? " 

While the knight was still raving, Sancho, who was 
more frightened than hurt, sprang to his feet, and took 
refuge behind Dorothea's mule. By the lady's intercession 
peace was again restored, Don Quixote apologising for 
his violence, and Sancho asking pardon for the insult to 
Dulcinea. 

The last few hours had been so crowded with incidents 
that Don Quixote had had no opportunity of learning the 
result of his squire's mission to Toboso. He now called 



104 Stories from Don Quixote 

upon Sancho to make his report, and that trusty envoy 
was just cudgelling his brains for a plausible answer, when 
they saw coming towards them a man riding on an ass 
and wearing the costume of a gipsy. Sancho no sooner 
saw him than he raised a great shout, and ran forward, 
vociferating — " Get off that ass, thou rascal, Pasamonte ! 
Get off, I say ; thou thief and villain ! " The fellow 
waited for no second summons, but slipped from the 
saddle, and took to his heels. . He was indeed no other 
than Pasamonte himself, the leader of the galley-slaves, 
who, after his escape, had fled to the Sierra Morena, and 
stolen the ass while Sancho and his master were 
sleeping. 

Sancho's joy at the recovery of his beloved Dapple 
knew no bounds. Running up to him, he embraced him 
tenderly, and said : " How hast thou fared, dear comrade, 
light of mine eyes, my gentle joy ? Buss me, sweet- 
heart ! " and he fell to hugging and kissing him again, 
while the ass stood stolidly blinking and flapping his ears, 
without answering a word. 



Further Adventures at the Inn 

i 

"T^ "TOW, Sancho," said Don Quixote, as they 

^WJ resumed their journey, u continue thy report. 
X ^| What was that queen of beauty doing when 
thou sawest her ? Was she stringing pearls, or broidering 
a motto for this her captive knight with gold thread ? " 

" She was sifting two bushels of wheat in the farm- 
yard," answered Sancho. 

" Every grain became a pearl," said the knight, " when 
touched by my lady's hands. And what did she do, 
when thou gavest her the letter ? Doubtless she kissed 
it, and pressed it to her heart." 

" She was in a great fume and flurry with the job she 
had in hand ; so she told me to lay the letter on a wheat- 
sack till she had finished her sifting." 

" O wise of head and tender of heart ! " cried Don 
Quixote, casting up his eyes. " She wished to have ample 
leisure before perusing the message of my love." 

" There was no perusing in the matter," answered 
Sancho, " for after she had done her work, and I had 
told her of the mad pranks which your honour was playing, 
she took up the letter, and tore it to pieces, saying that 
as she couldn't read it herself, none else should do so ; 
then she bade me tell you to stop your fooleries and come 
to Toboso at once, for she had a great desire to see you. 



io6 Stories from Don Quixote 

But I thought she would have died of laughing when I 
told her that you were re-christened, and now called The 
Knight of the Doleful Visage." 

" So far, so good," said Don Quixote. " But now tell me 
what jewel or other costly gift did she bestow on thee for 
thy faithful service as messenger between her and her 
knightly lover ? " 

" She gave me a bit of bread and cheese," replied 
Sancho, " and the cheese was of ewe's milk." 

" The jewel will follow,'' said his master : " fear nothing 
— she is generosity itself." Then for a while he was 
silent, and seemed sunk in an amorous reverie, sighing 
softly from time to time. Presently he said : " There is 
one thing, Sancho, which surprises me. From here to 
Toboso is more than thirty leagues ; how then couldst thou 
have gone thither and returned in a little more than three 
days ? Yet, when I consider, it may well be so, for 
doubtless the great enchanter who guides my destiny 
endowed thee with miraculous swiftness." 

" He did indeed," answered the truthful squire. 
" Rozinante went like a gipsy's donkey with quicksilver 
in his ear." 

At this moment they w r ere interrupted by the barber, 
who called to them to stop, and join the rest of the party 
in taking some slight refreshment. The diversion came 
very opportunely for Sancho, who was quite weary of 
coining lies to amuse his master's curiosity, for, as we 
know, he had not been near Toboso, and the letter to 
Dulcinea had never reached her at all. 

While they were eating the provisions which the 
priest and barber had brought with them, being all 
eated beside a little spring, a young lad, who happened 






Further Adventures at the Inn 107 

to be passing that way, after gazing intently at the party, 
came running up to Don Quixote, crying in a very 
plaintive voice : " Do you not know me, master ? I am 
that Andres whom your honour found tied to a tree, and 
set at liberty." 

It was a proud moment for Don Quixote ; here in the 
presence of many witnesses stood a living document of 
his valour, to prove how wise had been his choice in 
adopting the profession of knight-errantry. With a lofty 
mien, and in well-chosen language, he recounted the 
incident to those who sat with him, appealing to Andres 
to confirm the truth of his story. 

" Every word which your honour has spoken is true/' 
answered Andres, " and now hear what followed. As 
soon as you, sir, were out of sight and hearing, he tied me 
up to the tree again, and beat me so unmercifully that 
I was flayed like Saint Bartholomew ; and I have only 
just come out of the hospital, where I lay for weeks, sick 
almost unto death. See what comes of meddling with 
other people's business ! If you had not interfered, he 
would have given me a dozen stripes or so, and then paid 
me my wages and let me go ; but he was provoked by the 
vile terms which you applied to him, and not being able 
to take vengeance on you, he flogged me so brutally that 
I shall never get over it as long as I live." And here the 
unfortunate victim of knight-errantry burst into a storm 
of sobs and tears. 

Dire was the rage of Don Quixote when he heard how 
he had been flouted and deceived. "The vile miscreant!" 
he cried. " Saddle me Rozinante forthwith, Sancho ; I will 
find the knave, and chastise him, though he hide, like 
Jonah, in the whale's belly. But hold ! — I remember now 



108 Stories from Don Quixote 

that I am pledged by my promise to engage in no new 
adventure until I have set the Princess Micomicona on 
her throne ; therefore, Andres, thou must have patience, 
and when I return thou shalt be avenged." 

" I want none of your vengeance" whimpered the boy ; 
" I have had enough of that. Give me a morsel to eat, 
and a trifle of money to carry me to Seville, and so I 
wish you God speed, and God deal so with all knights- 
errant as they have dealt with me ! " 

Sancho gave him some bread and cheese, and when he 
had eaten it, seeing that there was nothing more to be 
got, he made his bow and departed ; but before he went 
he delivered this parting shot at Don Quixote : " For the 
love of Heaven, sir knight-errant, if ever you see me in 
trouble again, leave me to my fate, for however bad it 
may be, it will be made ten times worse if you meddle 
with the matter. A plague on you and all your errant 
tribe ! " 

With that he took to his heels, and disappeared round 
a bend of the road, leaving his benefactor covered with 
shame and confusion. 



II 

The next day they arrived at the inn where Don Quixote 
and Sancho had already passed through such rare adven- 
tures — the scene of the midnight brawl, of the making of 
the balsam, with its wonderful effects, and of Sancho's 
morning dance in the blanket. Don Quixote requested 
that a bed might be prepared for him at once, and as soon 
as it was ready he retired to rest, being completely worn 



Further Adventures at the Inn 109 

out by his long fasting and watching. The others sat down 
to supper, with the innkeeper, his wife and daughter, and 
Maritornes, a serving-maid of extraordinary ugliness, in at- 
tendance. During the meal they talked of Don Quixote's 
madness, and the priest observed that the poor knight had 
lost his wits by reading books of chivalry. " I don't see how 
that can be," remarked the landlord ; " to my mind there 
is no better reading in the world, and I have good reason 
for saying so, for in the harvest-time, when the reapers 
are taking their midday rest, we sometimes have a com- 
pany of thirty or more in this room, and we sit round in a 
circle, and listen while someone reads out to us from one 
of these gallant story-books, of which I have several by 
me. It makes us all feel young again, when we hear of the 
brave buffets delivered by those brave knights, and I, at 
least, am always mortal sorry when the reader stops." 

" So am I," said his wife, " for the only time when 
there is any peace in the house is when you are all 
listening open-mouthed to that precious stuff." 

" You say truly, mistress," said Maritornes, " and by 
my faith I like these books well. How sweet to hear 
how the knight sat under the orange-trees, with his arm 
round his lady's waist, while the old duenna kept watch 
at a distance, squinting with envy, and trembling with 
fear lest they should be discovered ! I love those morsels, 
they are sweeter than honey." 

The landlord's daughter also confessed her partiality 
for this kind of literature, declaring that she had cried her 
eyes out at the cruelty of those fair ladies who had 
suffered their knights to waste away in hopeless passion, 
when a word from them would have saved their true 
lovers from a world of misery. " One would hardly 



iio Stories from Don Quixote 

believe," she said, " that any woman could be so hard- 
hearted." 

" Well, mine host," said the priest, " let us see these 
fine books of yours, which, as it seems, have bewitched 
your whole household." The landlord went out, and 
presently came back with an armful of bulky volumes. 
11 Aha ! " said the priest, taking up one of them, a 
ponderous folio, "my old friend, ' Felixmarte of 
Hyrcania'! 1 I wish we had' the knight's housekeeper 
here to rid us of this trash." " As to that," answered 
the barber, who had now laid aside his disguises, " I can 
do the trick just as well as she — there is plenty of fire 
in the stove." " What ? " cried the landlord, " burn my 
Felixmarte? You should burn my own son first, if I 
had one. If you want to burn any of them, here is the 
" Life of Don Diego Garcia " — you may burn that, and 
welcome." 

" It is well you have said so," observed the priest ; u we 
need nothing more to show the pernicious influence of 
these Books of Chivalry. This book, which you hold so 
cheap, is a modest and sober narrative of the deeds of a 
Spanish hero, written by the hand which wrought them. 
Don Diego was a second Samson, of strength so pro- 
digious that he could stop a mill-wheel with one finger, 
and so valiant that he held a bridge single-handed against 
a whole army. This volume, I say, is a record of true 
manhood ; and you rate it as nothing, compared with 
that windy trash, bred in the empty pate of a crazy 
romancer." 

" Tell that to my grandmother ! " cried the landlord, 
with great contempt. a Mill-wheel, indeed ! A fine coil 

1 The favourite reading of Dr Johnson : see Boswell, under date 1709- 1 727. 




Don Quixote and the Wine- skins 



Further Adventures at the Inn 1 1 1 

about nothing ! Why, this is mere child's play to what 
Felixmarte did, when he sliced in half five giants with one 
stroke of his sword, or when by the valour of his single 
arm he routed an army of sixteen hundred thousand men. 
A fig for your Don Garcias, and swaggering captains ! " 



III 

The priest was still disputing with the landlord, and 
trying to persuade him that the stories which he admired 
so much were a mere mass of lies and absurdities, when 
their debate was cut short by the sudden entrance of 
Sancho Panza, who burst into the room, bawling at the 
top of his voice : " A rescue, gentlemen ! bring a rescue 
to my master, who is hard beset by the foes of the 
Princess Micomicona, a whole mob of giants. I saw him 
just now shave the head off of one of them, close to his 
shoulders, as clean as a turnip. The floor is running 
with his blood, and there lies his head, just like a big 
wine-skin." 

"May I be hanged," shouted the landlord, "if the 
madman has not been cutting open one of my skins of 
red wine, which were standing just by his pillow"; and 
springing from his seat, he rushed to the chamber where 
they had left the knight sleeping. The whole party 
followed close at his heels, and entering the bedroom 
they found Don Quixote, lightly attired in a shirt and a 
greasy, red night-cap, which he had borrowed from the 
landlord, and dealing furious blows in all directions with 
his naked sword, while he cried in a terrible tone : " Hold, 
robber, ruffian, bully ! I have thee now, and thy scimitar 



1 1 2 Stories from Don Quixote 

shall avail thee nought." At the sound of their entrance 
he turned his face towards them, and then they noticed 
that his eyes were shut ; for the fact was that he was 
sound asleep, and dreaming that he was engaged in a life 
and death struggle with the foes of Micomicona. 

When the landlord saw several of his skins cut to 
ribbons, and the room flooded with wine, he fell upon the 
knight with clenched fists, and began buffeting him with 
such fury that if the others had not dragged him off, our 
hero's battles would have been ended for ever. Yet, in 
spite of all this, Don Quixote did not wake until the 
barber brought a bucket of cold water from the well, and 
threw it over him, drenching him from head to foot ; 
then the poor gentleman opened his eyes, and stared 
wildly about him, as if he had just dropped from the 
moon. 

Meanwhile Sancho was searching in every corner for 
the head of the slaughtered giant, and not finding it, he 
said : " Now I know that this house is enchanted, for last 
time I was here I was cuffed and cudgelled to pieces 
without knowing where the blows came from, and now 
some wizard has spirited away this rascal's head, which I 
saw cut off with my own eyes, and the blood spouting 
like a fountain." 

" What is this fool's talk about blood, and heads, and 
fountains ? " cried the landlord angrily. " I tell you they 
are not heads, but wine-skins ; and the blood, as you call 
it, is my good red wine, and woe worth the knave who 
spilt it ! " 

" Well," replied Sancho, " all I know is that for want of 
this head I shall lose the countship which the princess 
promised me." 



Further Adventures at the Inn 113 

" Hear him ! " shouted the landlord. " Was there ever 
such a pair of madmen ? And the man is madder than 
the master. But they shall not get off as they did last 
time. I will make them pay for the damage to the last 
farthing, ay, even to the cost of plugging the torn wine- 
skins." 

While the innkeeper was thus fuming and threatening, 
the priest held Don Quixote's hands ; and the knight, 
thinking that he was in the presence of Micomicona, sank 
on his knees before him, and said : " Now may your 
highness, exalted and beauteous lady, enjoy your kingdom 
in peace, since you have nothing more to fear from the 
foul caitiff whom this arm hath overthrown. And so I 
have redeemed my promise, by favour of heaven and of 
her who is the breath of my life." 

" There, now ! " cried Sancho ; " what do you say to 
that ? It's as sure as cock-fighting ; the giant's in pickle, 
and I am My Lord Count." 

There was much laughter at the fooleries of that choice 
pair of lunatics ; only the landlord failed to see the jest, 
and wished them both at Jericho. At last, by the united 
exertions of the priest, the barber, and Cardenio, Don 
Quixote was put to bed again, and soon fell into the 
deep sleep of utter exhaustion. Then they went down to 
the inn parlour, where they found the landlady pouring 
out her woes to Dorothea, who had discreetly withdrawn, 
after one shy peep into Don Quixote's room. " Would 
to heaven ! " she was saying, in tearful tones, " that I had 
never set eyes on this knight-errant ! He will ruin us 
before he has done. Last time he was here he went off 
without paying for bed and supper for himself and his 
squire, and straw and barley for the horse and ass. Then 



114 Stories from Don Quixote 

comes this gentleman, and, all because of him, borrows 
my ox-tail, which he has brought back all plucked and 
stripped, so that it is of no use any more, and it was such 
a handy thing for my husband to keep his comb in. 
And now, to crown all, he has torn my skins and spilt my 
wine. But I'll have the money out of him, every penny, 
if I have to skin him for it, or I am not my mother's 
daughter." 

So she went on, scolding and weeping, and returning 
again and again to the subject of the ox-tail, which 
seemed to vex her more than anything else. The good 
priest again exerted himself in his office of peace-maker, 
promising that she should be paid in full for her losses, 
ox-tail and all ; and Sancho, who was disconsolate at not 
finding the giant's head, took heart again on being 
assured by Dorothea that she would give him his count- 
ship as soon as it could be proved that the giant was 
killed. " Then we may consider the thing settled," he 
declared stoutly, " for, as I am a true man, I saw his head 
roll on the floor, and there was a beard on it at least a 
yard long." 

IV 

Just at this moment the landlord, who was standing at 
the entrance, cried out : " Here is more company arriving ! 
— all quality folks, as it seems ; we shall do business 
to-day." And, saying this, he bustled out to pay his 
respects to the new customers, who were five in number 
— four gentlemen and a lady — all on horseback, and 
wearing masks, and two men-servants on foot. They 
drew up at the inn door, and one of them, who seemed to 



Further Adventures at the Inn 115 

be the leader of the party, assisted the lady to dismount, 
and led her into the public room, where she sank down on 
a seat with a despairing sigh, and seemed on the point of 
fainting. 

Dorothea had covered her face with a mask when she 
heard that strangers were approaching, and now, seeing 
one of her own sex in deep distress, she went up to her 
to offer help and sympathy. " Do not trouble yourself, 
lady," said the masked cavalier, " about this woman, and 
ask her no questions, for she will not tell you a word of 
truth." " It is false ! " cried she of whom he spoke, half 
rising from her seat. " How false it is none knows 
better than you, whose treachery and double dealing 
have brought me to this pass." 

At the sound of her voice Cardenio, who had retired 
to the other end of the room, started forward with a loud 
cry of " Lucinda ! " and she, when she saw him, sprang 
to meet him, and would have thrown herself into his 
arms, but the gentleman who had come with her held 
her back by force. In the struggle their masks fell off, 
and Dorothea, when she saw his face, shrieked " Fernando, 
my husband ! " and swooned away ; and if the barber, 
who was standing near, had not caught her in his arms, 
she would have fallen to the ground. The priest removed 
her mask, to throw water in her face : and thus the four- 
fold recognition was complete. Cardenio glared at Fer- 
nando, and Fernando, still holding Lucinda, frowned 
defiance at Cardenio. The first to break the silence 
was Lucinda, who turned her eyes reproachfully on 
Fernando and said : " See how heaven has intervened 
to bring those together who have been joined by its 
holy laws, and parted by your violence. Seek, then, 



1 1 6 Stories from Don Quixote 

no more to break this sacred bond, but let me return 
to him who is the master of my life, for I vow that 
nothing but death shall part us.'' 

Her entreaties were seconded by Dorothea, who had 
now recovered from her swoon : tottering to the place 
where Fernando stood, she sank on her knees before him. 
and addressed to him this heart-rending appeal : " By 
these tears, by thine own plighted word, and by every 
plea of duty and honour, I implore thee, Fernando, to 
remember what once I was to thee. Crush not the 
faithful heart which was once thy most cherished treasure, 
made thine by long importunity and prayer. Until the 
hour when I first saw thee, my life flowed in a smooth 
and easy current, undarkened by a shadow of care ; then 
thou earnest, seeming all candour and truth, a mirror 
of courtesy and manly grace, and I gave my fate into thy 
hands. Wilt thou turn that which should be my choicest 
blessing into my direst curse, and make wreck and ravage 
of a trusting maiden's life ? Thou canst not win this 
lady, who is already pledged to another : turn, then, O 
turn again, my lover, my husband, to her whom thine own 
choice, and the will of heaven, has made thy wife, and 
who lives, moves, and breathes, for thee, and for thee 
alone ! " 

The beauty of Dorothea, who seemed yet lovelier in 
her tears, the piercing sweetness of her voice, and her 
suppliant posture, awakened a thousand tender memories 
in that proud and wayward heart. When she ceased, 
he stood gazing at her for a good while in silence, while 
his face worked with a storm of conflicting passions : 
then opening his arms, and letting Lucinda go, he said : 
" Thou hast conquered, fair Dorothea, thou hast conquered 



Further Adventures at the Inn 117 

by the might of truth." And raising her from the 
ground, he embraced her tenderly, vowing that she was 
dearer to him than ever, after such manifest proofs of 
her constancy and love. 



V 

Seldom was seen a gayer group than that which was 
assembled at the inn that night. Fernando rejoiced that 
he had been recalled to his duty, and saved from the 
commission of a great crime ; and for the first time in 
his life he learned that the path of an innocent love is 
strewn with flowers. Cardenio and Lucinda sat hand- 
in-hand, reading bright visions of the future in each 
other's eyes. The priest, who was all benevolence and 
kindness, lent his aid to fan the gentle flame of social 
gaiety ; and not the least cheerful of the party was the 
hostess, who had been made happy by a promise from 
Cardenio to pay for all the damage which had been done 
by Don Quixote. Sancho alone remained gloomy, de- 
spondent, and unhappy, seeing that all his hopes of wealth 
and promotion had vanished like smoke ; and in this 
mood he went to Don Quixote's bedroom, and finding 
him just awakened, said to him in a tone of sullen 
complaint : " You may sleep as long as you choose, Sir 
Knight of the Doleful Visage ! The game is up, there's 
no giant to be killed, and no princess to restore to her 
kingdom." 

" Of course there's no giant," answered Don Quixote. 
" He is killed already : I chopped off his head with one 
slash of my sword, and the blood flowed like water." 

" Like red wine, I suppose your honour means," re- 



1 1 8 Stories from Don Quixote 

torted Sancho. " The slaughtered giant is a great wine- 
skin, which you slashed to ribbons, and the blood is the 
wine — some twenty quarts — contained in it, and the 
giant's head is my grandmother's night-cap." 

" What art thou talking about, fool ? " said his master. 
< 4 Hast thou lost thy wits ? " 

" Your honour will soon see, when they bring you the 
bill," replied Sancho doggedly. " I tell you we have been 
richly fooled, the pair of us, with their talk of giants, and 
princesses, and kingdoms. This princess, as you call her, 
turns out to be a private lady, named Dorothea, and her 
great possessions are all moonshine." 

" There is no end, it seems," said Don Quixote, " to 
the wondrous transformations in this enchanted castle. 
Reach me my clothes, Sancho, and I will go and enquire 
further into the matter." 

During the interview between the knight and his squire 
Fernando had been entertained by the priest with a brief 
account of Don Quixote's madness, and of the contrivance 
which they had adopted to get him back to his native 
village. It was agreed that they should keep up the 
farce, and Fernando insisted that Dorothea should go on 
acting the part of distressed princess. Presently Don 
Quixote entered, armed with lance and shield, and wearing 
the helmet of Mambrino, which was much bruised and 
battered, on his head. The contrast between the majestic 
gravity of his demeanour, and his preposterous equip- 
ment, struck them all dumb with amazement : but he, 
with a courtly smile on his yellow and cadaverous visage, 
fixed his eyes on the fair Dorothea, and bowing low, 
addressed her thus : " I am informed, exalted lady, by 
this my squire, that you have put off the [lofty rank to 



Further Adventures at the Inn 119 

which you were born, and descended to a private station. 
If you have done this by command of the royal wizard, 
your father, and through fear that my arm will not be 
sufficient to restore you to your kingdom, I must tell you 
that he is ill-instructed in the history of knight-errantry, 
or he would know that far greater deeds have been 
wrought by warriors of less fame than mine. Therefore 
take courage, dear and sovereign lady, for there are no 
perils on earth through which my sword will not cleave 
a path, and before many days are passed I will tumble 
that paltry giant's head in the dust, and set the crown 
on yours." 

Dorothea replied, with much dignity and grace. 
" Whoever," she said, " has informed you, Sir Knight of 
the Doleful Visage, that I have become other than I was 
has not spoken the truth. I am unchanged, both in my 
person, and in the thoughts which I entertain of your 
valour and might. If you are still minded to save me, 
to-morrow we will continue our journey ; and by the 
favour of heaven, and by your good sword, I hope soon 
to take my seat on my ancestral throne." 

" Now, Sancho," said Don Quixote, turning with an 
angry mien to his luckless squire " what dost thou 
mean, thou little rascally loon, by coming to me with all 
that lying nonsense, and putting me into such a quandary ? 
By my father's ghost, I have the best mind in the 
world " — here he ground his teeth and rolled his eyes 
ferociously — " to make mincemeat of thee, that thou 
mayest serve as an example and warning to all squires- 
errant in the future." Don Fernando interposed between 
the angry knight and his squire ; and Don Quixote, who 
took him for a high court official in the train of the 



120 Stories from Don Quixote 

Princess Micomicona, listened to him graciously, and con- 
sented once more to extend his pardon and indulgence to 
the erring Sancho. 

The evening was now far advanced, and the whole 
company retired to rest, excepting only the unwearied 
knight of La Mancha, who sallied forth, armed to the 
teeth, to stand sentinel before the inn, in case, as he said, 
some ill-disposed giant, or recreant knight, should make a 
nocturnal assault on the castle, tempted by the treasure 
of beauty which it contained. 



VI 



As the inn was crowded to its full capacity, the land- 
lord's daughter, who was a pretty and lively girl, had 
arranged to sleep in the same bed with Maritornes.. the 
maid-servant. About an hour after midnight she awoke 
suddenly, and, finding herself indisposed to sleep, she 
determined to play a trick on the crazy knight. So she 
called up Maritornes, and, after some whispered conversa- 
tion, the two girls stole on tiptoe to a hay-loft, in which 
was a window overlooking the yard where Don Quixote 
was keeping watch. Peeping through the window they 
saw him sitting, like an equestrian statue, on Rozinante, 
leaning on his lance, and thus murmuring his amorous 
plaint to the listening air of the southern night ; — " Sweet 
lady of Toboso, paragon of loveliness, crown of all the 
virtues, and queen of all wit ! What art thou doing at 
this solemn hour? Methinks I see thee, pacing the 
galleries of thy sumptuous palace, or sitting pensively at 
the window of thy bower, while thou studiest how. with- 



Further Adventures at the Inn 121 

out hurt to thy maiden pride, thou mayest vouchsafe some 
sign of favour to assuage the burning torture of mine 
afflicted heart. Do thou, cold goddess of the nightly 
heavens, unless thou art smitten with envy by the virgin 
splendours of her face, draw near as thou passest, and 
tell her what pains I endure for her sake ; and thou, fiery 
lord of day, who art now yoking thy steeds in the east, 
visit not her cheek too roughly with thy burning lips, lest 
thou cause me a jealous pang." 

As Don Quixote paused in his rhapsody, he heard his 
name called in soft and anxious tones, and turning his 
head he saw the two damsels looking at him from the 
hole which served as a window to the hay-loft ; and on 
the instant his insane fancy suggested to him the notion 
that the daughter of the baron who owned that castle was 
paying him a visit to request some service of his knightly 
valour. Ever prompt at the call of beauty in distress, he 
set his horse in motion, and rode up to the window, 
which was seven or eight feet from the ground. 
" I am deeply sensible," he said, " gracious lady, of the 
honour which you have done me in choosing me for 
your champion ; let me know what service you desire of 
me, and I vow by the name of that absent sweet enemy 
of mine to perform it — so that it be not in prejudice of 
my duty to her — though you ask me for one of the 
snaky locks of Medusa, or the rays of the sun enclosed 
in a phial." 

14 Before I tell you my wish," answered the landlord's 
daughter, " let me touch one of your knightly hands, as a 
pledge of honour and good faith." 

"Your will is my law," said Don Quixote; and exert- 
ing all his agility he planted his feet on the saddle, raised 

K 



122 Stories from Don Quixote 

himself upright, and thrust a long, lean paw through 
the window. " Take/' he said, " this hand, or, to speak 
more properly, this scourge of all evil-doers — take, I say, 
this hand, which finger of woman never before hath 
touched ; no, not even hers who holds entire possession of 
my whole person. Look at it closely, with its broad veins 
and iron sinews, that you may know how mighty is the 
arm to which such a hand belongs. But forbear to kiss 
it, for it is sacred to other lips than yours/' 

During this parley Maritornes had descended to the 
stable, and returned with all speed, bringing with her the 
halter of Sancho's ass. With this she made a running 
noose, and, slipping it over Don Quixote's wrist, drew it 
tight, and made fast the other end to the bolt of the 
door. 

" Fair lady," said Don Quixote, as he felt the cord 
grinding his wrist, " deal not so ungently with the hand 
which is devoted to thy service." But there was no one 
to hear his courtly reproaches, for the two damsels, as 
soon as they had made him fast, retreated from the loft, 
choking with laughter. 

Happily for Don Quixote, Rozinante stood fast, as if 
he had been carved in wood, and his meek and patient 
disposition gave reasonable hope that he would remain 
in that position for a month if necessary. " It is enchant- 
ment, all enchantment," muttered the knight, after trying 
cautiously once or twice to set free his arm, which was 
stretched tight and rigid by the cord ; and he cursed his 
folly in venturing a second time within those enchanted 
precincts. Being firmly convinced that he was under the 
influence of a powerful spell, he resigned himself to his 
fate, and resolved to wait quietly until the malign aspect 



Further Adventures at the Inn 123 

of the stars should pass, or the enchanter who held him 
there captive should choose to release him. 

He had spent about two hours in that painful attitude, 
and the day was just breaking, when he heard the 
trampling of horses, and four men, well mounted and 
equipped, and carrying muskets at their saddle-bows, rode 
up to the inn door, and knocked loudly, shouting to the 
people to open. Remembering his duty as sentinel, Don 
Quixote cried to them in loud and arrogant tones : 
" Knights or squires, or whatever you may be, it is not 
seemly to raise such a clamour at the gates of this castle 
before the night is well over. Wait until the sun is risen, 
and then the governor of the fortress will decide whether 
it be proper to admit you or not." 

" What stuff is this about castles and fortresses ? " said 
one of the troop. " If you are the innkeeper, tell them 
to open to us, for we are police officers travelling in haste, 
and want nothing but to bait our horses and go on." 

" Do I look like an innkeeper ? " asked Don Quixote 
indignantly. 

" I don't know what you look like," replied the man, 
" but I know that you are talking nonsense in calling this 
pothouse a castle." 

" A castle it is," answered the knight, " and one of the 
best in all this province, and there are people now in it 
who have borne sceptres in their hands and crowns on 
their heads." 

" Some company of strolling players, I presume," re- 
turned the other, " fit guests for this paltry road-side 
tavern." 

" You know little of the world," said Don Quixote 
" and are ill versed in the usages of knight-errantry." 



124 Stories from Don Quixote 

" There is nothing to be made of this fool," remarked 
the trooper to his fellows, and turning again to the inn 
door, he began battering it with great violence. The 
troopers had now dismounted, and left their horses loose 
in the yard. One of the animals, drawn perhaps by 
sympathy, came up to Rozinante, and began nuzzling at 
him, after the manner of his kind. That staid and melan- 
choly charger, who after all was of flesh, made a step 
forward, to return the stranger's greeting ; the movement 
was a slight one, but it was sufficient to disturb the balance 
of Don Quixote, who lost his footing on the saddle, and 
was left suspended, with his arm still fast to the window, 
and the tips of his toes just kissing the ground. The 
sudden wrench almost tore his arm from the socket, and, 
struggle and strain as he might, he could not alter his 
position a hair's-breadth. In this fearful situation he 
began to roar and bellow like a mad bull ; and Maritornes, 
who was awakened by the uproar, ran at once to the loft, 
and loosed the cord. Almost at the same moment the 
landlord flung open the door, and entered the yard, just 
in time to see Don Quixote drop to the ground. 

The undaunted warrior no sooner found himself at 
liberty than he leapt into the saddle, set his lance in rest, 
and having ridden to the other end of the field, to get 
space for his career, came back at a hard gallop, shouting 
as he drew near : " Whoever asserts that I have been 
rightly and justly enchanted, is a liar, and, with permission 
of my lady, the Princess Micomicona, I here defy him and 
challenge him to single combat." 

As no one was found to answer his challenge, Don 
Quixote dismounted, and called Sancho to take Rozinante 
to the stable ; but the worthy squire was too much 




" He was left suspended " 



124 



Further Adventures at the Inn 125 

occupied with his own concerns to obey the summons, 
being engaged in a violent dispute with a new comer, 
who had just arrived at the inn. This man was the 
barber from whom Don Quixote had taken the helmet of 
Mambrino ; and as he entered the stable, to put up his 
ass, he saw Sancho, who was mending some part of his 
ass's furniture, and recognising him at once as the thief 
who had robbed him of his new saddle and bridle, he 
rushed at him, crying : " Ah ! rascal, I have caught you 
at last ! Give me back my basin, and all the trappings 
which you stole from me." So saying, he seized hold of 
the saddle, which Sancho clung fast to with one hand, 
while with the other he dealt the barber a cuff which made 
his teeth rattle. " Help ! " cried the barber ; " I am being 
robbed and murdered." " You lie," answered Sancho ; 
" what I have taken is lawful spoil of war, won by my 
master, Don Quixote." 

By this time most of the people of the inn had gathered 
round the struggling pair, and among them was Don 
Quixote, who was much gratified to see how valiantly 
his squire bore himself in the fray, and privately resolved 
to dub him a knight at the first opportunity, seeing that 
he was a stout man of his hands, and well qualified to do 
honour to the order of knights-errant. The barber 
appealed loudly to the bystanders to take his part, with 
many feeling allusions to his ass-trappings and his basin, 
" a brand new brass basin," as he said, " worth a crown of 
any -man's money." At the word basin Don Quixote felt 
himself touched in a tender point, and perceiving that 
graver issues were involved than the ownership of a set of 
ass's furniture, he parted the combatants, and said : 
" This is a matter which concerns me nearly ; go, Sancho, 



126 Stories from Don Quixote 

and bring hither the helmet of Mambrino, which this 
foolish fellow calls a basin." The helmet-basin was 
brought, and Don Quixote, holding it up for inspection, 
called upon all present to bear witness that it was a 
helmet. 

Master Nicholas, the barber of Don Quixote's village, 
who was among those present, resolved to humour the 
jest, and make merry at his brother barber's expense ; so 
he fixed his eyes gravely on the basin, and said : " This 
is a strange error of yours, friend and colleague. I would 
have you know that I am a barber of twenty years' ex- 
perience, and I have also served as a soldier, and know 
very well what belongs to all kinds of arms, offensive and 
defensive. I say, then, and I will maintain it against the 
world, that this thing which you call a basin is a helmet, 
and nothing but a helmet." His assertion was backed by 
Cardenio, Fernando, and the three gentlemen in his train, 
who all averred solemnly that the basin was a helmet. 
There remained to be decided the question of the ass- 
trappings, which Don Quixote declared to be a rich horse- 
caparison, taken from a recreant knight whom he had 
overthrown in single combat. Don Fernando undertook 
to put the matter to the vote, and going from one to the 
other he asked each separately to give his verdict. All 
gave their vote against the barber, and in favour of Don 
Quixote ; and the unfortunate owner of the property, 
finding every voice against him, began to doubt the 
evidence of his own senses, and went away, almost crying 
with vexation. 

Just as this weighty matter was settled, one of the 
police officers came out of the inn, where he and his com- 
panions had been refreshing themselves, and went to the 



Further Adventures at the Inn 127 

stable to look after his horse. Passing Don Quixote on 
the way he stopped suddenly and began to peruse his 
features, comparing each detail with a written description 
contained in a warrant which he had taken out of his 
pocket. Having finished his scrutiny, he shifted the 
warrant to his left hand, and seizing Don Quixote by the 
collar with his right, cried out in a loud voice : " I arrest 
this man, in the name of the Holy Brotherhood, for breaking 
the peace on the king's highway, as witness this warrant 
and the seal which it bears." 

The priest, who was standing near, took the warrant, 
and found that the description given in it corresponded in 
every particular to the Knight of La Mancha, against 
whom an order of arrest had been issued for assaulting 
the police and liberating the galley-slaves. In the mean- 
time Don Quixote, finding himself thus roughly handled, 
seized the officer with both hands by the throat ; and so 
they stood, locked in a fell embrace, and both on the 
point of being throttled, until they were dragged apart by 
Fernando and his friends. The officer, who was now 
supported by his comrades, loudly demanded the sur- 
render of his prisoner. But Don Quixote laughed 
scornfully at his pretensions, and said with great com- 
posure : " Go to, vile caitiff ! What knowest thou of the 
rights and privileges of knight-errantry ? I might tell 
thee that those who follow the rule of chivalry are above 
all laws, and subject to no authority but that of heaven 
and- their lady. But I disdain to waste breath on such a 
low-born churl. How darest thou, base thief-catcher, lay 
thy dirty fingers on the shoulder of a dubbed knight like 
me ? " Thereupon he flew into a passion, and talked so 
wildly and behaved with such extravagance, that the 



128 Stories from Don Quixote 

officer, though a thick-headed pragmatical fellow, began 
to suspect that he was somewhat disordered in his 
intellects ; and, on receiving the assurance of the priest 
that he would be taken care of, and sent back to his 
friends, the insulted constable smoothed his ruffled 
feathers, and consented to forego his warrant. 



VII 

That evening Don Quixote retired early to rest, and 
Sancho, who was a great sleeper, soon followed his 
master's example. Master and man being thus disposed 
of for the time, the priest and barber set to work to 
contrive means of carrying the crazy knight, willy-nilly, 
back to his village. They agreed with a waggoner, who 
happened to be passing, to pay him a certain sum for the 
use of his team and waggon. Then, under their directions, 
a strong timber cage was constructed, like those used for 
conveying bullocks to market. By midnight all was 
ready, and Fernando and his friends, who were in the 
plot, with the innkeeper and two stable-helpers, all wearing 
masks and disguised in strange costumes, entered the 
room where Don Quixote was sleeping, bound him hand 
and foot, and carried him to the cage, which was standing 
ready on the waggon. They thrust him in, and made 
fast the door ; and there he lay, without uttering a sound, 
staring wildly at the fantastic figures who hovered round 
the waggon, and whom he took for evil spirits of the 
haunted castle. To assist his delusion, a hollow and 
ghostly voice came booming through the darkness, and 
uttered these words of prophecy : — 

" Be not dismayed, O Knight of the Doleful Visage, 




^ 



fr 

^ 



8> 

55 






^ 
6 

^ 



^ 
•« 



M 



Further Adventures at the Inn 129 

to find thyself thus caught and caged : for thus, 
and thus only, canst thou reach the goal to which thy 
soaring spirit aspires. This end shall be accomplished 
when the fierce Manchegan lion shall wed with the dove 
of Toboso, and from that union shall spring two valiant 
whelps, who shall emulate the ramping talons of their 
mighty sire. And thou, most noble and loyal squire that 
ever wore sword in belt, beard on chin, or smell in nostrils, 
let it not vex or affright thee to see the flower of knight- 
errantry in this strange conveyance, for ere long thou 
shalt rise with him in glory to the seats of pride and 
power, — and I promise thee, in the name of the sage 
Mentironiana, that thy wages shall be paid to the utter- 
most mite." 

This sublime nonsense was spoken by the barber, who 
was concealed behind the inn door, and whose delivery 
of the oracle was much admired by those who were in 
the plot. 

Sancho, who had received a hasty summons to prepare 
for the road, was at first inclined to protest on seeing his 
master bound and caged ; but he was reassured by Don 
Quixote, who had been much comforted by the barber's 
prophecy, and declared himself resigned to his fate. The 
priest and barber took leave of Fernando and the rest, 
the waggoner cracked his whip, and the strange proces- 
sion started, attended by the police officers, who had 
been bribed to serve as an escort. 

VIII 

It was the hour of noon on a Sunday, and the good 
people of Don Quixote's native village were just 



130 Stories from Don Quixote 

coming out of church, when the Knight of La Mancha 
made his triumphal entry into the market-place. First 
came the ox-waggon, with the caged champion stretched 
on a bundle of hay, and looking more doleful than ever, 
having received further damage in an encounter by the 
way. Sancho rode close behind on his ass, and the 
priest and barber, mounted on their mules, brought up 
the rear. The police officers had been paid and dis- 
missed at the end of the last stage. 

The news spread quickly through the village, and when 
the waggon drew up before Don Quixote's house they 
found his niece and the housekeeper standing at the door 
ready to receive him. Loud was their outcry and many 
were their maledictions against those wicked books of 
chivalry, when they saw how battered, how wan and 
wasted he looked. They got him to bed, and the priest 
gave them strict charge to watch him carefully, and not 
let him slip through their fingers again. This they pro- 
mised to do, but at the same time expressed their fears 
that as soon as they had nursed him back to health he 
would return to his mad pranks, in spite of all their 
vigilance. And so, indeed, it proved. 

Having seen his master safely housed, Sancho made 
his way to his cottage, where he was warmly welcomed 
by his faithful Joan. The first question which she asked 
was whether the ass was doing well. " Better than my 
master," answered Sancho. " Thank heaven for that ! " 
cried she. " But tell me, dear husband, what have you 
got by your squireship? Have you brought me a new 
petticoat, or shoes for the children ? " " Better than that ! " 
said Sancho, with a sly wink. " A fig for your petticoats 
and shoes ! Wait a little and you will see me made a 



Further Adventures at the Inn 131 

count, and hear yourself called My Lady ; or it may be 
that I shall get some matter of an Isle to govern — all in 
good time." 

The good wife asked him what he meant by his talk 
about isles and countships, but Sancho only wagged his 
head sagely, and would tell her nothing further. " Don't 
go so fast," he said, " but wait and see if I have not told 
you the truth. And mark this — there is no finer trade 
in the world than to go about squiring a knight-errant, on 
the hunt for adventures. It is true that when you find 
your adventure, it is generally the wrong side up — and 
then the blanketings and bufferings, the kicks and the 
cuffs ! — but for all that it is a grand game to be a gentle- 
man of fortune, roaming over mountain and forest, visiting 
castles and lodging at inns, where you eat and drink of 
the best, with never a penny to pay." 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 
I 

FOR a whole month Don Quixote was confined to 
his chamber, being sorely shattered by the rude 
assaults and manifold hardships to which he 
had been exposed in the course of his wanderings. 
During all that time he was nursed with unflagging care 
and tenderness by the two women of his household, and 
the housekeeper afterwards declared that it had cost her 
a matter of six hundred eggs to set him up again. 

The priest and barber had been constant in their 
enquiries after the knight's health, but had refrained from 
seeing him, for fear lest their presence should revive the 
memory of incidents which were better forgotten. Hearing, 
however, that he was now convalescent, they resolved to 
pay him a visit, and make trial of his mind, to see if the 
old unhappy delusion had survived his illness. 

They found him sitting up in bed, wearing a sleeved 
waistcoat of green fustian, and a red flannel night-cap. 
So wasted he was, so gaunt and shrivelled, that he looked 
like a breathing mummy. He greeted them with great kind- 
ness, and in the course of the conversation which followed, 
astonished them by the acuteness of his judgment and the 
brightness of his wit, fully justifying the assertion formerly 
made by his housekeeper, that he had the finest brain in 
all La Mancha. 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 133 

" Can it be true ? " murmured the priest to himself ; " is 
the old wound healed at last ? But come, we will now put 
him to the test." And accordingly he led the conver- 
sation to military matters, and the danger which threat- 
ened Christendom from the ambition of the Turk. 

A strange gleam appeared in the sunken eyes of Don 
Quixote, and he answered only too promptly to the 
challenge. " There is one way/' he said, " equally sure 
and simple of averting that peril." " Indeed," answered 
the priest, whose suspicions were now all on the alert, 
" and what way is that ? " The two women, who were 
present, waited breathless to hear the answer, the barber 
smiled slightly, as if he knew what was coming, and the 
good priest muttered a prayer that his fears might not be 
fulfilled. They were not kept long in suspense. u Hark 
in your ear," said the invalid, leaning forward with a 
flushed face. " There is one sole and sovereign remedy for 
this and all the other ills and perils of the State, — but 
you must promise me, both of you, that you will not sell 
my secret to the Court, and rob me of my just reward." 
The priest and barber gave the promise required, and 
Don Quixote resumed : " My plan is this : let the king 
make public proclamation by his heralds, commanding all 
knights-errant now roaming about Spain to assemble at 
his Court, and we shall soon see the whole Turkish host 
scattered, routed, and put to confusion. Were there not 
champions in the days of old who with their single arm 
defied- and vanquished whole nations? Such was Belianis, 
and such was Amadis, with all the long line of his 
descendants ; and who knows but that our sovereign's 
need will raise up another Amadis ? " 

His excited tones, and flashing eye, even more than 



134 Stories from Don Quixote 

his wild words, convinced his hearers that the fatal spell 
was still as strong as ever. A lively debate ensued, in 
which Don Quixote showed himself more than a match 
for the clumsy ridicule of the barber, and the grave 
reasonings of the priest : for all his wonderful powers 
were now enlisted on the side of his darling delusion. 
When they had left him the dispute was taken up by his 
niece, a somewhat pert and forward young lady, though 
sincerely attached to her uncle. A few stern words were 
sufficient to reduce her to silence ; and the housekeeper, 
who next assailed her master with voluble remonstrance, 
fared no better. There was evidently no help for it — 
Don Quixote was about to take the war-path again. 

Seeing him thus obstinate in his purpose, the house- 
keeper called in the aid of a certain Samson Carrasco, 
a young scholar who had just returned to the village. 
after finishing his studies at Salamanca. Samson listened 
to her story with apparent sympathy, promised to come 
and talk to Don Quixote, and bade her take comfort, for 
all would be well. 

True to his word, next morning the young Bachelor of 
Salamanca paid an early visit to Don Quixote, and was 
received with open arms by the housekeeper and niece, 
who expected him, with his brand-new learning, to work 
wonders. But what was their dismay when they found 
this false ally openly taking sides with Don Quixote, and 
applauding his mad design, as if it were the most just 
and rational in the world ! The reason for this seeming 
treachery will appear by and by. 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 135 

II 

Three days afterwards Don Quixote, mounted on 
Rozinante, and attended by Sancho on his faithful 
Dapple, set out at nightfall, and took the road to Toboso. 
Don Quixote was clad in his battered armour, and 
Samson had furnished him with a helmet, old enough, 
and rusty enough, to have served as a head -piece for a 
scarecrow. No one attempted to oppose their departure, 
for the niece and housekeeper could do nothing by them- 
selves, and the priest and barber, in concert with Samson, 
had agreed to let him have his way for the present. 

They had left the village about a mile behind them, 
when Rozinante began to neigh, and Dapple to groan. 
" It is a sign of most happy augury," quoth the knight. 
" Great things are in store for us, Sancho." " It may be 
so," answered Panza, " but methinks, sir, that my fortune 
will be greater than yours ; for Dapple's braying is so 
loud and lusty, that he drowns the voice of Rozinante." 

Don Quixote had resolved, as a fitting prelude to his 
third sally, to visit the peerless Dulcinea in her home at 
Toboso, and obtain her favour and blessing before en- 
gaging in any adventure. Sancho was much concerned 
when he heard this, fearing that his master would learn 
the truth about his supposed embassy to Toboso ; and he 
privately determined to find some means to keep the 
knight and his lady apart. 

On- the evening of the following day they reached the 
outskirts of the enchanted city, and Don Quixote retired 
with Sancho into the shelter of a wood, to prepare his 
mind, by an interval of repose and meditation, for the 
momentous interview. It was midnight, and the stars 



136 Stories from Don Quixote 

were shining softly, when they left their retreat, and rode 
slowly into the slumbering town. Not a soul was stirring 
in the streets, but now and then the stillness was broken 
by the howling of a dog, the grunting of pigs, or the wails 
of some prowling cat — gross noises, which jarred upon 
the ears of the amorous knight. 

Sancho led his master up and down, through back 
streets, and into blind alleys, pretending to look for the 
house of Dulcinea. At length he grew weary, and pulled 
up suddenly, remarking peevishly : " I cannot find this 
plaguey castle, as your worship calls it — perhaps the 
enchanters have carried it away." " It may be so," 
replied Don Quixote gravely ; " but speak with more 
reverence, Sancho, and check the rude licence of thy 
tongue." " Well," said Sancho, who was in a very bad 
humour, " let your worship find it for yourself — I give 
it up." Don Quixote led the way, and Sancho followed, 
grumbling to himself. " A pretty thing, indeed," he 
muttered, " to be kept out of one's bed, and led up and 
down, hunting for castles and palaces at this time of 
night." Presently Don Quixote pointed to a tall mass 
of building, which stood up, dark and sombre, against 
the sky, about a hundred paces off. " Either I am greatly 
deceived," said he, "or yonder stately pile is the palace 
of Dulcinea." The " stately pile " proved on a closer 
inspection to be the principal church of Toboso. " 'Tis 
the church ! " gasped the knight, with a blank look at 
Sancho. " Ay, and the churchyard," groaned his squire, 
" and pray heaven we may not find our graves there." 

The air was growing chilly towards dawn, and master 
and man were now at their wits' end, having ransacked 
every corner of the place, when they saw a labouring 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 137 

man coming towards them, leading a pair of mules, and 
dragging a plough behind him. He sang lustily as he 
passed along, and Don Quixote was delighted to re- 
cognise the words of the famous ballad which tells of 
the defeat of Charlemagne and his peers in the valley 
of Roncesvalles. " Tis a good omen for our adventure," 
he said, and hailing the peasant, asked him if he knew 
the whereabouts of the palace of the Princess Dulcinea 
of Toboso ? The man stared, but answered civilly that 
he was a stranger in the place, having been recently 
hired by a rich farmer to work in his fields. " But over 
there," he added, pointing to a house opposite to the 
church, " lives the priest of Toboso, and doubtless he 
can tell you, for he has a list of all the inhabitants of 
the town." And with that he started his mules, and 
went on his way. 

Day was now coming on apace, and Sancho was very 
anxious to get his master out of the town before he 
could come to speech with any of the natives, and find 
out the trick which had been played on him. So he 
turned to Don Quixote, who was somewhat perplexed 
and dispirited by the ill success of their search, and said : 
" Sir, it will not be well for you to alarm the modesty 
of your lady by appearing before her suddenly, and un- 
announced, in broad daylight. It will be best for you 
to withdraw to some place of concealment outside the 
town, and wait there till I have found out the dwelling 
of the Lady Dulcinea, and arranged a fitting time and 
place for your meeting." 

" Spoken like an oracle, my son," answered Don 
Quixote : " make haste, and find me a hiding-place, and 
then thou canst go on thy errand." 

L 



138 Stories from Don Quixote 

Sancho lost no time in obeying, and putting Dapple 
to his best pace in about half an hour he brought his 
master to a certain coppice, with dense underwood, some 
two miles from the town. Then leaving Don Quixote 
safely ensconced, he went back again to look for the 
house of Dulcinea. 



Ill 



Sancho, as may well be supposed, was little delighted 
with the fool's errand on which his master had sent him ; 
and having ridden a little way towards the town, he 
dismounted and sat down under a tree to consider what 
was best for him to do. And thus communed the great 
Sancho, like one of Homer's heroes, with his indignant 
soul: "Say, brother Sancho, whither art thou going? Goest 
thou to look for a strayed ass of thine? Of a truth, 
not so. Then what goest thou out for to seek ? I go 
(thou sayest) to look for a princess — a thing of naught, 
thou wouldst say — a sun of beauty, and a pearl of per- 
fection. And who sent thee to seek her ? The famous 
knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, who makes straight 
the crooked, gives drink to the hungry, and to the thirsty 
meat. Tis very well — but dost thou know where she 
lives, Sancho? In some royal palace, says my master, 
or in some proud castle. And what if those of Toboso, 
learning that thou art come to fetch away their princesses 
and flutter the souls of their ladies, should come and 
beat thy ribs with unmeasured drubbings, and break 
every bone thou hast ? Methinks they would have much 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 139 

reason for so acting — though I might claim to go scot- 
free, as it is not my will, but my master's, which laid 
this charge on me. But there is no trusting to that : 
these Tobosans are a peppery lot, and understand no 
jesting. No, I don't like the business at all — let him 
pull his chestnuts out of the fire for himself — I'll have 
none of it." 

So he continued for some time longer, stringing his 
whimsical reflections together, with here and there a 
pithy proverb to season the whole ; and the upshot of 
his meditations was that he determined to point out to 
Don Quixote the first peasant girl whom he met, and 
swear that she was the true Dulcinea. So, having 
allowed an interval to elapse sufficient to have enabled 
him to go to Toboso and back, he mounted Dapple, 
and rode towards the place where Don Quixote was 
waiting. 

Hardly had he started when he saw coming towards 
him three young women of the village, riding on asses. 
They came pat to the purpose which he had in view, and 
Sancho, highly pleased with this stroke of good luck, rode 
back at top speed to find his master. " Good news, good 
news ! " he bawled, as soon as he came in sight of the 
love-lorn cavalier, who was sitting under a tree, in an 
attitude of deep dejection. " Up, master ! " he shouted 
again, checking Dapple with a sharp jerk, and alighting 
nimbly at Don Quixote's feet. " Here they come riding 
to see your honour : mount Rozinante, and go to meet 
them." 

" How sayest thou, Sancho ? " answered the knight, 
lifting his woe-begone visage ; " who comes ? " " The 
Lady Dulcinea, with two maidens of her train," answered 



140 Stones from Don Quixote 

the rogue Sancho, " all ablaze with gold and jewels, and 
mounted on three pacing palfreys, as dainty as ever you 
saw." 

" Forward, then ! " cried Don Quixote, springing to his 
feet, " and as a reward for this good news thou shalt have 
the spoils of my next victory, or if this does not satisfy 
thee, I will give thee three foals from my paddock at 
home." 

" The foals for me," said Sancho, " for, as to the spoils, 
you can never know how they will turn out." 

Thus talking they rode out into the open, and saw the 
three village girls coming towards them. " How is this, 
Sancho ? " said Don Quixote, after staring hard at the 
rustic damsels. " Where are those ladies of whom thou 
hast spoken ? " " Where are they ? " replied Sancho, 
" why, there they are " — pointing to the donkey-riders. 
" Does your worship keep your eyes in the back of your 
head, that you can't see them, blazing like the noon-day 
sun ? " 

" I see nothing," said Don Quixote, " but three peasant 
girls on three asses." 

" Beshrew my beard ! " cried his squire. " Is your 
honour bewitched ? Asses, indeed ! — palfreys, you mean, 
as white as driven snow. Come, sir, snuff your eyes, and 
come and pay your respects to the queen of your 
affections, for she it is, and no other." 

Thereupon he rode up to the girls, and, dismounting 
from Dapple, took one of their asses by the bridle, and 
then, dropping on his knees, addressed the rider in these 
terms : " High Queen of Beauty, behold before you your 
captive knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, whose squire 
I am. He has come hither to offer you suit and service, 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 141 

but now stands, turned to marble at finding himself in 
your glorious presence." 

Don Quixote took the hint, and, alighting, placed 
himself on his knees by Sancho's side, and sought hard to 
discover that vision of loveliness which he had heard 
described. But the more he looked, the more he was 
confounded, for the girl was coarse-featured, with a full- 
moon face and flat nose. So there he knelt, staring 
and gaping, unable to utter a word. 

No less astonished were the girls, to see those two 
strange objects kneeling before them and blocking their 
way. At last she whose ass Sancho was holding, growing 
impatient, cried in coarse and angry tones : " Out of the 
way, and a mischief on ye ! We have no time for foolery." 

Then said Sancho : " O Princess and Sovereign Lady 
of Toboso, incline your heart unto the pillar and corner- 
stone of knight-errantry, now kneeling in your sublimated 
presence ! " 

Hereupon one of the supposed Dulcinea's companions, 
pressing her beast forward, exclaimed : " Whoa, there, till 
I curry the hide of thee, ass of my father-in-law ! Dye 
think to make fools of us country girls, pretty gentlemen ? 
Keep your nasty jokes to yourselves, and go your ways, 
or it will be the worse for you." 

Don Quixote had by this time found his voice, and 
made a heartrending appeal to the stony bosom of his 
mistress : " O thou paragon of all human perfection, sole 
remedy for this afflicted heart which adores thee, though 
changed by foul enchanters into the coarse image of a 
farm-servant — unless the same malignant power hath 
made me appear a monster in thy sight — vouchsafe me 
one look of tenderness, one little sign of thy favour ! " 



142 Stories from Don Quixote 

" Out on thee, dotard ! " answered the lass. " To come 
courting at your time of life ! Clear the road, I say ! " 

Sancho let go the bridle and stood out of the way, 
being more than satisfied with the success of his stratagem ; 
and, finding herself free, she who had passed for Dulcinea 
pricked her donkey with her riding-rod, which was armed 
with an iron point, and rode off at full gallop. But her 
career was brought to an abrupt close : for the ass, being 
severely galled by the goad, gave a sudden buck, which 
landed the lady Dulcinea on the road. Don Quixote 
hurried to her assistance, while Sancho ran to arrange the 
saddle, which had slipped round, and was dangling under 
the ass's belly. No sooner was the saddle buckled on 
again than the girl, avoiding Don Quixote's grasp, took a 
short run, and, resting her hands on the ass's crupper, 
vaulted into the saddle, as light as a sparrow-hawk, and 
sat astride as if she had been a man. 

" Well done ! " cried Sancho. " On my life, but the 
lady Dulcinea sits her horse like a Cordovan jockey, and 
rides like a Mexican ! See how she scours the plain ! 
And there go her damsels after her, riding helter-skelter ! " 

And such, indeed, was the fact : for seeing their com- 
panion fairly started, the other two laid on the whip, and 
the whole party made off at full speed, never turning 
their heads or drawing rein for the space of half a 
league. 

Don Quixote gazed wistfully after them, and when they 
were out of sight he turned to Sancho, and said : " Thou 
seest, friend, how constantly I am made the victim of 
envious enchanters — the mark at which they aim all the 
arrows of their malice. Was it not enough to deceive 
and mock me with phantoms, that they must transform 



Don Quixote visits Toboso 143 

that queen of beauty into the vile image of a farm- 
servant, and the ambrosial perfumes which breathe 
from her presence into a rank savour of garlic? I say 
again, and I will say it a thousand times, that I am the 
most unhappy of men." 

Sancho had much ado to contain his laughter, when he 
found how readily Don Quixote had fallen into the trap 
prepared for him. Then they moved slowly away, the 
knight silent and pensive, and the squire hugging himself 
inwardly at the happy issue of that rare adventure. 



The Knight of the Mirrors 

i 

ON the following night our two adventurers pitched 
their camp under the shade of some tall trees, and 
after supper Sancho composed himself to rest at 
the foot of a cork-tree, where he soon fell into a heavy sleep. 
Don Quixote, who was weary, sat leaning against an oak, 
and was beginning to nod, when he heard a noise behind 
him, and looking round perceived that two horsemen had 
just entered the wood. One of them flung himself from 
the saddle, saying to his companion : " This place will do ; 
there is grass for the horses, and silence and solitude for 
my amorous thoughts." Therewith he stretched himself 
on the ground, and as he did so there was a clash of 
arms — a sure sign to Don Quixote that the new-comer 
was a knight-errant. So he went softly up to Sancho, 
and having, with no small difficulty, awakened him, said 
to him in a low tone : " Brother Sancho, here is an 
adventure." " Heaven grant it may be a good one," 
answered Sancho. " And where is her Ladyship, Mistress 
Adventure ? " " Look yonder," said Don Quixote, " and 
under that tree you will see reclining a knight-errant, who 
seemed to me to be somewhat disturbed in his mind. 
But hark ! I hear him tuning the strings of a lute, or viol. 
Now he is clearing his throat, as if he were about to sing. 
Listen, and we may yet get a clue to his story." 



The Knight of the Mirrors 145 

The stranger knight had now tuned his instrument, and 
after striking a few notes he began to sing a plaintive 
ditty, full of vows and woes, and hearts, and darts, and the 
common stuff out of which such lays are made. When 
he had finished he uttered a sigh, which seemed to rend 
his breast, and said in a lamentable voice : " Ah ! fair 
ingrate, beautiful Casildea, how long must I be exiled 
from thy presence, wandering ever, and ever toiling for 
thy sake ? Is it not enough that I have proclaimed thee 
to be without a peer among all the beauties of Navarre, 
Leon, Castille, and La Mancha ? " 

" He is out of his wits," remarked Don Quixote. " Has 
he never heard of Dulcinea del Toboso ? " His voice 
reached the ears of the love-sick cavalier, who sprang to 
his feet, and cried in sonorous, but courteous tones : 
" Who goes there ? Say, who are ye, and come ye in 
sorrow or in joy ? " 

" In sorrow," answered Don Quixote. " Come hither, 
then," said the other, " and since I have found a comrade 
in affliction, let us sit down together, and mingle our 
tears." Don Quixote was not slow to accept the invita- 
tion, and in another moment they were seated side by 
side, gazing curiously into each other's face. There we 
will leave them for the present and accompany Sancho, 
who was carried off by the stranger's squire to another 
part of the wood. 

" What is your master's name ? " asked Sancho, when 
they had found a snug corner, not far from the place 
where the horses were tethered. " He is called the 
Knight of the Mirrors," was the answer ; " and he is one 
of those who burn their fingers in stirring other people's 
porridge. He is looking for another knight who has lost 



146 Stories from Don Quixote 

his wits ; and he is like to lose his own in the quest, and 
get a smack in the face into the bargain." 

" If he has a taste for keeping company with madmen," 
said Sancho, " he has come to the right quarter. My 
master is the one to cram him with that commodity. 
They will make a pretty pair, if, as you say, your knight 
has got a crack in his own pate." 

" Crazy he is," replied he of the mirrors, " but valiant — 
though, to tell the truth, he has more of roguery than 
either of folly or of valour." 

" I can't say that for mine," said Sancho. " There is 
not a grain of roguery in him ; his soul is as white as 
new china, and he wishes ill to none, but good to all. A 
child could make him believe that it is night at noonday ; 
and for this simplicity of his I love him in my very 
heart's core, and cannot bring myself to leave him, for all 
his follies." 

Sancho seemed to be troubled with a sort of dry 
cough, for he kept hawking and clearing his throat, and 
his voice was thick and husky. "Your tongue is rusty 
with much talking," remarked his new friend. " Wait a 
moment, and I'll soon cure that — I've got a rare lubricator 
hanging at my saddle-bow, which will put you right in a 
trice." So saying he left his seat, and presently came back 
with a big leather bottle, and a pasty half a yard long, 
filled with the meat of a large tame rabbit. " Does your 
squireship carry such wares along with you ? " asked 
Sancho, fingering the pasty tenderly. " What do you 
suppose ? " answered the other. " Do you take me for 
one of your starveling lackeys, who drink nothing but 
water ? I am better furnished than the camp-kitchen of 
a general." 



The Knight of the Mirrors 147 

Sancho had already thrust his fingers into the bowels 
of the pasty, and his host lost no time in keeping him 
company. " O brave squire ! " cried Sancho, as they 
chawed away merrily. " O noble and generous squire ! 
I warrant you never want grist to your mill, seeing what 
a feast you have spread, as it were by enchantment — 
while I, poor wretch, have nothing in my saddle-bags but 
a lump of cheese, hard enough to crack the crown of a 
giant, and a handful of nuts and locust-beans — thanks to 
the niggardliness of my master, whose creed it is that 
knights-errant have to nourish themselves on dried fruits 
and the herbs of the field." 

" Let the knights feed as they choose," replied the 
squire, " on fruits, and roots, and berries, and bram- 
bles. Such diet may suit their lordly stomachs, but 
mine requires more generous fare." Then, seizing the 
portly bottle, he cried, " Come hither, sweetheart, true 
friend and lover, that has never said me nay ! I love 
thee so, that I am fain to kiss thee a hundred times a 
day." And, taking a long pull, he handed the bottle to 
Sancho, who raised it solemnly, and throwing back his 
head, remained with his eyes fixed on the stars, and his 
mouth glued to the leather, for about a quarter of an hour. 
" Ay ! 'tis a true catholic creature ! " he exclaimed, 
lowering the bottle at last, and sinking his head on one 
side, with a deep sigh of content. " I should judge by 
the flavour that it was grown in Ciudad Real." x 

" Right ! " replied the giver of the feast, " grown there 
it was — and not yesterday either." 

u I thought as much," remarked Sancho ; " you can't 
deceive me in the matter of wines. I have but to put 
1 "The official capital of La Mancha."— Watts. 



148 Stories from Don Quixote 

my nose to them, and I will tell you their name, race, 
flavour, and age. All the Panzas have this talent, and 
our family boasts of having produced the two greatest 
wine-tasters in all La Mancha. To give but one instance 
of their skill : a vintner, who had just broached a hog's- 
head of wine, called them in to give their opinion of its 
quality. One of them tried it with the tip of his tongue ; 
the other merely lifted the sample to his nose ; the first 
said that it tasted of iron, and the second that it had a 
flavour of leather. The vintner vowed that they were 
mistaken, but some time after, when the wine was all 
drunk, those who were cleaning the cask found in it a 
small key attached to a piece of leather. Judge, then, if 
a Panza knows what wine is, or not." 

So these two notable gossips and topers talked and 
drank, and drank and talked, until their eyes grew heavy, 
and their utterance thick. Then they sank down, side by 
side, and, still clinging to the bottle, now nearly empty, 
they fell sound asleep. 

II 

While the squires were thus enjoying themselves after 
their kind, the Knight of the Mirrors recounted to Don 
Quixote the perilous feats which he had accomplished at 
the command of his lady, Casildea of Vandalia ; and, con- 
cluding his story, he said : " Finally, she ordered me to 
range the whole realm of Spain, and compel every knight- 
errant I met to confess that she was the fairest of all 
living women, and I the most valiant knight and the most 
faithful lover to be found on earth. Unnumbered are 
the champions from whom I have wrung this confession at 



The Knight of the Mirrors 149 

the point of my sword, but among them all I need name but 
one, for in conquering him I have conquered the whole 
order of knighthood. He was called Don Quixote de la 
Mancha, and all the lustre of his deeds is now transferred 
to me." 

Great was Don Quixote's astonishment when he heard 
this report of his own defeat, and his first impulse was to 
cram the lie down its author's throat, but he checked 
himself, and said, calmly, " It must have been some other 
knight, with a likeness to Don Quixote, whom your 
worship vanquished — though, indeed, there are few like 
him ; that it was not Don Quixote himself is certain." 

" As there is a heaven above us," replied he of the 
mirrors, " it was he, and no other. He is a man tall of 
stature, dry of visage, long and withered of limb, with 
grizzled hair and hooked nose, a little awry, and wearing a 
heavy moustache, black and drooping. He fights under the 
name of The Knight of the Doleful Visage, rides a famous 
steed named Rozinante, is attended by a squire called 
Sancho Panza, and serves a lady known as Dulcinea del 
Toboso, though her real name is Aldonza Lorenzo." 

" You have painted him to the life," said Don Quixote. 
" Nevertheless I tell you that you are under a delusion, 
and have been tricked by the powerful magician who 
pursues me with his malice. He has taken upon him the 
likeness of Don Quixote, and suffered himself to be 
defeated, that he might rob that knight of his just honour 
and renown. And if you would know who is the true 
Don Quixote, here he stands, ready to make good his 
words, on horse or on foot, at such time and place as you 
may choose to appoint." Saying this, he stood up, and 
waited, with hand on hilt, for the answer to his challenge. 



150 Stories from Don Quixote 

" It wants but an hour till dawn," answered the other, 
" and by daybreak we will decide the issue. The condition 
of our duel shall be, that he who is conquered shall be at 
the disposal of the victor, and obey him in everything, 
provided that he can do so with honour." 

Don Quixote agreed, and they went together to call up 
their squires, whom they found snoring in the same attitude 
in which they had fallen asleep. Sancho was considerably 
alarmed for the safety of his master when he heard that 
he was about to engage in mortal combat with the Knight 
of the Mirrors, of whose valour he had heard wonders 
from the squire. However, he ventured no protest, but 
went with his fellow-servant to make ready the horses for 
the coming encounter. On the way his companion pro- 
posed that while their masters were fighting, he and Sancho 
should have a friendly duel on their own account. " That 
will never do," replied Sancho, whose peaceful and charit- 
able temper was outraged by the suggestion. " It is against 
all the laws of chivalry for squires to hack each other to 
pieces — besides, I have no sword." " Never mind that," 
said his friend ; " I have a couple of linen-bags with me, 
and we will fill them with pebbles and pommel each other 
with them — it will be rare sport." 

" Rare indeed ! " rejoined Sancho. " A most elegant 
pastime, to hammer each other to a jelly, like an apothe- 
cary compounding his drugs." " Nevertheless, fight we 
must," said he of the mirrors, " if only for half an hour." 
11 Fight I will not," answered Sancho. " Why the mischief 
should I fall to blows with him whose bread I have eaten ? 
It would be foul ingratitude." " To relieve your scruples," 
said the other, " I will wipe out the debt with a kick or 
two, and then you can fight with a clear conscience/' 




" The growing light disclosed to him an object of terror " 150 



The Knight of the Mirrors 151 

" Kick me, will you ? " exclaimed Sancho, who was not so 
pigeon-livered as to receive such a proposal meekly. "You'll 
find yourself kicking your heels in the other world if you 
try such pranks on me. Keep the peace, I say, or I'll 
write pax on your crown with the thick end of a cudgel." 

Their brawl was interrupted by a sudden burst of song 
from a multitude of birds, who seemed with their sweet 
and various notes to be saluting the fair goddess of dawn, 
now showing her lovely face in the portals of the east, and 
shaking from her tresses a copious shower of liquid pearls 
to refresh the awakening flowers ; the willows dropped 
sweet manna, the springs laughed, the brooks murmured, 
the woods rejoiced, and the fields were touched with splen- 
dour by her advent. 

But the growing light, which was filling all the world 
with gladness, brought far different feelings to the valiant 
breast of Sancho, disclosing to him an object of terror, in 
the shape of a monstrous nose, which projected like a 
formidable beak from the face of the rival squire. The 
nose was of a mulberry tint, covered with warts, and hang- 
ing down half-a-foot below the owner's mouth. Sancho's 
heart died within him when he caught sight of that fearful 
proboscis, which he took for some new and perilous kind 
of weapon, and he looked round for his master, who was 
exchanging courtesies with him of the mirrors before 
taking ground for his career. The stranger knight had 
closed his vizor, so that his face could not be seen ; but 
Don Quixote noted that he was clean-limbed and some- 
what low in stature. Over his armour he wore a sort of 
tabard, seemingly of cloth of gold, and covered with a 
number of little mirrors, which made a gallant show as 
they flashed in the rays of the rising sun. His helmet 



152 Stories from Don Quixote 

was crowned with a great tuft of green, yellow, and white 
feathers, and his lance, which he had leaned against a tree, 
was of great size and weight. 

In the midst of these observations, Don Quixote was 
interrupted by Sancho, who came running up, with signs 
of great alarm, and taking hold of one of his stirrups, 
cried : " Look, master, the nose ! the nose ! " Don 
Quixote looked in the direction indicated, and seeing the 
squire with that extravagant' feature concluded him to be 
some goblin or monster from another world. 

" Help me to climb this cork-tree, dear master," said 
Sancho, in trembling tones : " I — I should like to have a 
good view of your brave duel with this knight." Don 
Quixote smiled at his squire's explanation, but he gave 
him the assistance required, and leaving him safely perched 
in the fork of the tree, set spurs to Rozinante and charged 
at full speed, with lance in rest, against him of the mirrors, 
who had pulled up in the middle of the field on seeing him 
engaged with Sancho, and was now spurring with might 
and main to urge his horse to the encounter. But the 
beast either could not, or would not, move, and before the 
knight had time to lower his lance Don Quixote was upon 
him, striking him with such force that he was dashed to 
the ground, where he lay without stirring hand or 
foot. 

Hardly had Sancho seen him fall, when he slipped down 
from his perch, and came running up to his master, whom 
he found kneeling over his vanquished foe, and unlacing 
his helmet, to see if he was still alive. But what was 
Don Quixote's amazement when, on opening the vizor, he 
saw the flat nose, wide mouth, and round, fair face of the 
Bachelor, Samson Carrasco ! " Look, Sancho," he cried, 



The Knight of the Mirrors 153 

" here is more glamour and enchantment ; O that rogue 
of a magician, will he never cease persecuting me ? " 

Sancho gazed fearfully at the prostrate Bachelor, and, 
crossing himself devoutly, said : " Would it not be well, 
sir, to thrust your sword down the throat of this fellow, 
who looks like Carrasco, and so make an end of the 
enchanter who has taken his likeness ? " 

" Tis well said," answered Don Quixote. " We shall 
have one enemy the less ; " and he drew his sword, to 
carry out Sancho's advice. But at this moment the Squire 
of the Mirrors, who had now removed his monstrous nose, 
came running up, and cried in a loud voice : " Beware 
what you do, Sir Knight, for he who lies at your feet is 
your friend Samson Carrasco, and I am his squire." 

" But where is your nose ? " asked Sancho, glancing 
round at him. " Here/' answered he, pulling that alarming 
feature, which was made of pasteboard, out of his pocket. 
Sancho looked at him more attentively, and presently 
cried out, in a loud voice of wonder : " Is not this my 
gossip and neighbour, Tome Cecial ? " " Ay, Sancho," 
answered the disnosed squire ; " and I beseech thee, for 
old acquaintance sake, to intercede with thy master on 
behalf of this misguided and over-bold knight and 
bachelor." 

Just then the unlucky Samson (for he it was) opened 
his eyes, and saw his conqueror standing over him, and 
brandishing a naked sword in his face. " Confess," said 
Don Quixote in stern tones, " that Dulcinea del Toboso 
outshines your lady Casildea in beauty, and promise to go 
and carry the news of your defeat to Dulcinea, and to bring 
back to me a faithful report of your interview : promise 
to do all this, or you shall die the death." 

M 



154 Stories from Don Quixote 

" I promise everything," answered the Bachelor, sullenly. 
" I prithee let me get up— that is, if I can, for I am fear- 
fully bruised." Don Quixote and Tome aided him to 
rise, and soon after the defeated knight and his squire 
went off together in a very bad humour, leaving Don 
Quixote with the firm conviction that the sudden trans- 
formation which he had just witnessed was wrought by 
enchanters, on purpose to diminish the lustre of his 
victory. 

Ill 

A few words are required to explain what motive 
induced the young graduate of Salamanca to disguise 
himself as a knight-errant, and provoke an encounter 
with Don Quixote. It will be remembered that when 
Don Quixote declared his resolve of setting out again in 
search of chivalrous adventures, he was openly counte- 
nanced and encouraged in his purpose by the Bachelor, 
who had been called in by the housekeeper with exactly the 
contrary intention. In this apparent double-dealing he 
was acting on the advice of the priest and barber, who, 
seeing that it was useless openly to oppose Don Quixote's 
infatuation, had determined to let him have his way, 
hoping, by means of a stratagem, to bring him back, and 
compel him to live quietly at home. After some debate, 
they hit upon a plan which seemed to promise success. 
It was agreed that Samson should equip himself as a 
knight, throw himself in Don Quixote's way, and defy 
him to single combat, making it a condition of the duel 
that he who was worsted should be at the disposal of his 
conqueror. Samson counted on an easy victory, which 
would empower him to exact a promise from Don Quixote 



The Knight of the Mirrors 155 

that he would return to his village and resume his peaceful 
occupations for a space of two years ; and this, they hoped, 
would give time for his madness to burn itself out. 

Such was this well-meant scheme, which was utterly 
frustrated, and turned to the opposite effect, by the un- 
looked-for overthrow of the Bachelor, who, as Sancho 
would have said, had come for wool, and went back 
shorn. Don Quixote was greatly uplifted by his triumph 
over the Knight of the Mirrors, and more confirmed in 
his knight-errantries than ever ; while Samson retired, 
bruised and battered, but unsubdued in spirit, and resolved 
to try the issue again. 



Don Quixote's Adventure with 
the Lions 

" T^ JjT ASTER," said Sancho, " it is a strange thing, but 
\/| I am still haunted by the prodigious nose of 
jL ▼ JL my old crony, Tome Cecial." 

" And dost thou still believe," answered Don Quixote, 
"that the Knight of the Mirrors was really Samson Carrasco, 
and his squire thy neighbour Tome ? " 

" What am I to think," replied Sancho, " the face, the 
figure, and the voice were those of Tome, and he spoke of 
my wife and children as one who had known them long." 

" All fraud and imposture," said Don Quixote : " hast 
thou forgotten how, only two days back, the grace 
and loveliness of Dulcinea were changed by magic into 
the coarse semblance of a common farm - servant ? All 
this is but child's play to the masters of the black art ; 
but the day shall come when all their devices shall be 
brought to nought." 

While thus conversing they had left the scene of their 
late adventure far behind them, and were beginning to 
look out for some place where they might find shelter 
from the noonday heat, when they heard the sound of a 
trotting horse coming up behind them, and were soon 
overtaken by a man of middle age, well-mounted on a 
dapple-grey mare. His dress and appearance showed 
him to be a country gentleman of the better class : he 
wore a hooded overcoat of fine green cloth, slashed with 
156 



The Adventure with the Lions 157 

tawny velvet, and a velvet cap of the same colour ; his 
horse's trappings were of murrey and green, and he wore 
a hanger suspended from a broad shoulder-belt of green 
and gold, and Moorish riding-boots of the same fashion as 
the belt ; and his spurs, instead of being gilded, were 
overlaid with green lacquer to match the rest of his 
equipment. He passed our two travellers with a civil 
greeting, and, spurring his mare, was pushing on before 
them ; but Don Quixote said to him : " Fair sir, if you 
are not in haste, we should be pleased to have your 
company on the road." " Indeed," answered the gentle- 
man, " I would gladly ride with you, but my mare is 
somewhat restive, and I feared there might be trouble." 
" As to that," said Sancho, " your worship need be under 
no concern, for my masters horse is a very lamb for 
meekness, and will neither give nor take offence." 

With this assurance the Green Knight, as he had at 
once been dubbed by Don Quixote, drew rein, and 
accommodated his pace to the sober gait of Rozinante 
and Dapple. Having now leisure to observe the appear- 
ance of Don Quixote, he looked at him attentively, and 
could hardly disguise his astonishment at what he saw, 
having never in his life beheld so whimsical a figure. 
His curiosity was presently relieved, for Don Quixote, 
rightly interpreting his looks, gave a short account of 
himself, telling how he had devoted his life to reviving 
the extinct order of knights-errant, and redressing the 
evils of a naughty world. " And heaven has so prospered 
my efforts," he said in conclusion, " that there is not a 
house in Spain that has not heard of the famous deeds of 
Don Quixote de la Mancha." 

The Green Knight now began to perceive that his new 



158 Stories from Don Quixote 

acquaintance was some lunatic at large ; but being 
requested by Don Quixote to make some return for his 
confidence, he readily complied, and gave an interesting 
description of his own life and occupations. " My name," 
he said, " is Don Diego de Miranda, and I live in a village 
not far from here. I pass my days with my wife, my 
children, and my friends. My pastimes are fishing and 
hunting, but I keep neither hawk nor greyhound, only a 
well-trained spaniel, and two or three lively ferrets. My 
serious hours are spent in study, for which purpose I 
have a small but choice library of books, sacred and 
profane. Sometimes I entertain my friends at my table, 
and at others they spread the board for me. My repasts 
are neat and plentiful, without extravagance. I am no 
lover of gossip, nor do I suffer others to offend my ears 
with idle tales of my neighbours. I go to Mass every 
day, and give freely to the poor, seeking not my own 
glory, but remembering to whom I owe my good things. 
I endeavour to reconcile those who are at enmity, I revere 
our Lady, and trust always in the infinite mercy of the 
Lord our God." 

When the good gentleman had finished this pleasant 
description of a blameless life, Sancho, who had listened 
with devout attention, dropped from his saddle, and going 
up to him took hold of his right stirrup, and kissed his 
foot with an air of profound reverence. " By my faith," 
said the simple fellow, almost in tears, " this is the first 
saint on horseback that ever I set eyes on." 

Don Quixote's melancholy features relaxed into a smile 
at Sancho's simplicity, and Don Diego knew not which to 
admire most, the mad fancies of the knight, or the oddity 
of the squire. 



The Adventure with the Lions 159 

II 

In answer to a question of Don Quixote's concerning 
his family, Don Diego mentioned that he had a son who 
had caused him no little anxiety by refusing to apply 
himself to any serious study, and devoting all his time to 
the idle and unprofitable pursuit of verse-making. This 
gave our knight an opportunity of displaying the other 
side of his character : for in commenting on the text 
supplied by his new friend's remark, he launched out into 
an eloquent discourse on the grandeur and national 
importance of the poet's vocation, and passing then to the 
subject of education protested against the unwisdom of 
ignoring the natural bias of a young mind, and forcing it 
into a channel for which it felt itself unfit. On these 
topics he spoke at some length, displaying such ripeness 
of judgment, and such propriety and elegance of language, 
that his hearer was more bewildered than ever to find 
so much wit and so much folly lodged together in the 
same head. 

While the sage of La Mancha was giving his lecture, 
Sancho, who found the subject little to his taste, had 
stepped aside to buy a junket of some shepherds, who 
were milking their ewes in a field near the road. He was 
just paying for his purchase when he heard his master 
calling to him in a loud voice to bring his helmet, which 
Don Quixote had taken off, for coolness, and given to him 
to carry. The call was repeated in loud and peremptory 
tones ; and Sancho, in his hurry and agitation, being loth 
to lose the curds, and not knowing where else to put them, 
poured the whole mess into the helmet, and ran off to 
attend his master. 



160 Stories from Don Quixote 

He found Don Quixote engaged in a hot dispute with 
his companion, and pointing with eager gestures towards 
a closed waggon, drawn by mules, which was coming along 
the road, and from which fluttered a number of little 
banners, showing that the equipage was in the service of 
the king. 

" Quick, man," cried the knight, as Sancho came up, 
" give me my helmet, for here is an adventure, if ever I 
saw one." 

Sancho, having no time to empty the helmet, handed it 
to his master, curds and all ; Don Quixote took it, and 
without looking inside, clapped it on his head, and the 
curds being packed tight in this novel cheese press, began 
to discharge the whey, which streamed freely over his face 
and beard. 

" What means this, Sancho ? " asked Don Quixote in 
startled tones : " is my skull turned to pulp, or are my 
brains melting, or is it sweat which is bathing me from 
head to foot? Surely I must be on the brink of some 
tremendous adventure. Give me something to wipe my 
face with, for this sweat, if sweat it is (though certainly 
not of fear), is blinding mine eyes." 

Sancho brought him a cloth, and gave it to him without 
a word. Don Quixote, after wiping his face, took off his 
helmet, and peered inside. When he saw that white, 
pappy mess, he put the helmet to his nose, and having 
smelt it, cried out : " By the soul of Dulcinea, thou hast 
been putting curds into my headpiece, thou frontless 
villain ! " 

" Curds ? " answered Sancho, with well-feigned indig- 
nation, " I put curds into your worship's helmet ? Where 
should I get them from ? And if I had any, where should 



The Adventure with the Lions 161 

I put them, but into my own stomach ? No, dear sir, 
this is no work of mine, but of some enchanter, who has a 
grudge against me, because I serve your honour." 

11 May be thou art right," said Don Quixote ; and having 
now cleaned himself, and emptied the helmet, he set it 
firmly on his head, adjusted his sword hilt, and grasping 
his lance, cried with undaunted mien : " Now come what 
will, I am ready to meet it, though it were the Prince of 
Darkness himself." 

The waggon was now close at hand, with two men in 
charge, one of whom, the driver, was riding on one of the 
mules, and the other sat in the front of the waggon. 
" Halt ! " said Don Quixote, barring the way, " and say, 
what are you carrying in that cart ? " " Sir," answered 
the driver, " in this cart, which belongs to me, are two 
fierce lions, which I am carrying as a present to his 
Majesty from the General at Oran." " Are they big, these 
lions ? " asked Don Quixote. " So big," answered the man 
who was riding on the front seat, " that I never saw any 
of such a size, among all those which have been brought 
from Africa. They are male and female, in separate cages, 
and I am their keeper. Pray, sir, let us pass, for the 
beasts are hungry, having eaten nothing to-day, and I wish 
to reach a place where I can get meat for them." 

Don Quixote paused awhile, as if lost in thought, and 
then said softly, with a gentle smile: "Lions ? Little lions? 
— Do they come to me with their lions at such a time as 
this ? ' Well, they will soon see how much I care for their 
lions." Then turning to the keeper, he said : " Get down, 
good fellow, and uncage these lions of yours, and I will 
teach them who Don Quixote de la Mancha is, in spite of 
the enchanters who sent them hither." 



1 62 Stories from Don Quixote 

" Aha ! " said Don Diego to himself, " our knight gives 
token of his quality ; methinks the curds have got inside 
his skull, and damaged his brain." " For the love of 
heaven ! " cried Sancho, coming up to him, " do prevent 
my master from fighting these lions, or we are all dead 
men." " Can he be so mad as to think of it ? " asked the 
gentleman. " He is not mad," answered Sancho, " but 
over-bold." " I will cool his valour," said Don Diego ; and 
going up to Don Quixote, who was urging his request on 
the keeper, he said to him : " It is not courage, sir, but 
foolhardiness, to provoke such fearful perils for no good 
object. These lions have done you no harm, and mean you 
none ; let them go, then, to the King, their rightful owner." 

" Go home, sir," replied Don Quixote, " and attend to 
your spaniels and ferrets ; this matter is beyond your 
reach." Then addressing the keeper, he said : " Open the 
cage at once, thou varlet, or I will nail thee to the waggon 
with this lance." 

The carter, seeing that armed apparition so fixed in his 
resolve, said to him : " For pity's sake, good master, give 
me time to unyoke my mules and take them out of the 
way, for they and the waggon are my whole living, and if 
the lions kill my mules I shall be undone." 

" O man of little faith ! " replied Don Quixote, " dis- 
mount, and unyoke, if thou choosest. Thou wilt soon see 
that thy fears are idle." 

" I call you all to witness," cried the keeper, while the 
driver made haste to uncouple his mules, " that I am act- 
ing under compulsion, and in fear of my life. Take care 
of yourselves, gentlemen, and get to a place of safety 
before I loose the lions : as to me, I have nothing to fear 
from them." 



The Adventure with the Lions 163 

Sancho now came up to his master, and begged with 
tears in his eyes that he would abandon his insane purpose. 
" I have just been peeping," he said, " through a chink in 
the cage, and caught sight of a claw, and I am sure that 
the beast who owns it must be as big as a mountain." 

" Measured by thy fears, Sancho," remarked Don 
Quixote, " he is doubtless as big as the globe. Now get 
thee gone, good friend, and if I fall, thou knowest what 
thou hast to do : carry the news to Dulcinea, and say — I 
need not tell thee what." 

By this time the carter had unyoked his team, and 
riding one of the mules, and leading the other, he trotted 
off briskly with a rattle of jingling harness. Sancho 
followed close behind, fairly blubbering with grief for his 
master, whom he counted already dead, and terror for 
himself. He cursed his destiny, and deplored the evil 
hour in which he had consented once more to share the 
fortunes of Don Quixote ; but in the midst of his lamenta- 
tions he never ceased from laying the stick on Dapple, to 
get as far as he could from the cart. Don Diego con- 
sidered a moment whether he should resort to force ; but 
seeing himself overmatched in arms, and not deeming it 
prudent to engage in single combat with a madman, he 
decided on retreating, and setting spurs to his mare, soon 
overtook the others. 

The lion-keeper waited until they were well out of 
reach, and then, after one more vain attempt to dissuade 
Don Quixote from his purpose, prepared to open the cage. 
Don Quixote, after some deliberation, had determined to 
meet the enemy on foot, fearing that Rozinante might take 
fright at the sight of the lions ; so he sprang from his 
horse, laid aside his lance, drew his sword, and holding his 



164 Stories from Don Quixote 

shield before him, advanced with measured step and daunt- 
less mien to the door of the cage, commending himself 
with all his heart to heaven and his lady. 

Seeing that there was no help for it, the keeper opened 
wide the door of the first cage, disclosing to view the male 
lion, who was of great size and appalling aspect. The 
lion, who had been lying down, rose and stretched himself, 
thrusting out his claws. Then, after a comfortable yawn, 
he put out his long tongue, and began to lick the dust 
from his eyes, and wash his face. Having finished his 
toilette he put his head out of the cage, and looked round 
on all sides with red and glaring eyes — a sight to strike 
terror into the most intrepid heart. But Don Quixote 
met his gaze without flinching, desiring nothing but that 
the lion would spring from his cage and come to close 
quarters, that he might hew him in pieces. 

So far did his unexampled frenzy go : but the noble 
lion, with true kingly dignity, paid no attention to this 
boyish bluster, and after looking about him in every direc- 
tion, turned slowly round, displaying his back parts to Don 
Quixote, and with great coolness and indifference flung 
himself down again in the cage. Upon this Don Quixote 
bade the keeper to take a stick, and provoke him by blows 
to come out. " I shall do no such thing," replied the man, 
11 for if I irritate him, the first whom he will rend in pieces 
will be myself. Your grace has done all that honour re- 
quires : you have defied your adversary, face to face, and 
he has declined the encounter ; the victory is therefore 
yours, and you may rest on your laurels without tempting 
Fortune further." 

" 'Tis well said," answered Don Quixote : " close the 
cage, my friend, and bear me witness that I have done my 



The Adventure with the Lions 165 

devoir. Shut him up, I say, and I will signal to the run- 
aways, that they may come back and learn from thy lips 
how I have borne myself in this great adventure." 

The keeper did as he was ordered, and Don Quixote, 
fixing on the point of his lance the towel with which he 
had wiped his face after the shower of curds, waved it 
aloft, and shouted to the party, who were still in full re- 
treat, Sancho and the mule-driver leading, and the Green 
Knight bringing up the rear. Sancho, who turned his 
head at every step, saw the signal, and cried out : " My 
life for it, if my master has not killed those fierce beasts, 
for he is calling us." 

They drew rein, and seeing that Don Quixote was still 
waving the cloth, ventured slowly back to the cart. When 
they came up, Don Quixote said to the driver : " Yoke 
your mules again, good fellow, and drive on ; and do 
thou, Sancho, give him two gold crowns for himself and 
the keeper, for the time which they have lost on my 
account." 

The keeper kissed Don Quixote's hands, in gratitude 
for his bounty, and being called upon to bear witness to 
our hero's valour, gave a flowery description of his splendid 
behaviour in the face of that great peril, promising to tell 
the whole story to the King, when he saw him at Madrid. 
"And should his Majesty enquire," said Don Quixote, "who 
wrought this deed, you shall answer that it was The 
Knight of the Lions — for by this title I would have men 
call nie in the future, as is the custom and wont of 
knights-errant, who change their names as they list 
according to their fortunes and achievements." 

So ended this memorable exploit, which raised Don 
Quixote to the summit of knightly renown. 



The Wedding of Camacho 
I 

DON QUIXOTE remained four days at Don 
Diego's house, having been pressed by that hos- 
pitable gentleman to spend some time with him 
as his guest. He had much pleasant discourse with his kind 
host, and Lorenzo, his son, who were alternately delighted 
by his wit and wisdom, and astounded by the persistency 
with which he clung to the old fatal delusion. " This is 
the strangest man I ever met," remarked Don Diego one 
evening to his wife : " Except on one subject, his words are 
those of a sage ; and all his acts are those of a madman." 

On the fifth day Don Quixote took leave of his enter- 
tainers, with many expressions of regard on both sides, and 
set out again in quest of adventures, attended by Sancho, 
who obeyed the summons with great reluctance, being loth 
to leave that house of plenty for the scanty fare and mani- 
fold hardships of knight-errantry. 

Soon after they had left the village where Don Diego 
lived, they were overtaken by four men, riding on asses. 
Don Quixote saluted them courteously, and desired them 
to moderate their pace, that he might ride in their company ; 
and his request being granted, he went on to inform them 
of his titles and profession. His strange language, and 
wild appearance, made them all stare ; but they treated him 
with respect, and one of them, who was a student, advised 

166 



The Wedding of Camacho 167 

him to go with them to a neighbouring village, where a 
wedding was about to be celebrated, the fame of which had 
spread to all the country round. " The bridegroom/' con- 
tinued the student, " is one Camacho, a young farmer, sur- 
named the rich, on account of his great possessions ; and 
the bride is Quiteria, called the fair. In age they are well 
matched, he being twenty-two, and she eighteen. Some 
say that she is of a higher family, but wealth levels all dis- 
tinctions. The wedding-feast is to be held on the village- 
green, which Camacho has turned into a shady bower, by 
causing it to be covered with a roof of freshly cut boughs 
of trees. He is very free-handed, and there will be such 
feasting and merry-making as never was seen. But the 
cream of the matter remains to be told : there is a certain 
Basilio, a fine young lad, who was born and bred in the 
house next to Quiteria's, and was her playmate from child- 
hood upwards. When they grew up, the whole village 
counted on their making a match of it — she, the prettiest 
lass in the place, and he, the best runner, wrestler, and 
sword-player, with a voice like a lark, and a hand on the 
guitar which makes it speak. But Quiteria's father, who 
saw how matters were going, and did not choose to give 
his daughter to a poor man, made up this marriage with 
Camacho, and shut his door in Basilio's face. And now 
all the village is agog to know what will happen at the 
wedding ; for ever since Basilio heard of his sweetheart's 
betrothal, he has gone about like one distracted, and it is 
generally believed that he will do something desperate 
when the hour arrives which is to make her the wife of 
Camacho." 

All this was fine news for Don Quixote, being the very 
stuff and fibre out of which adventures were woven, and he 



1 68 Stories from Don Quixote 

at once determined to be present at the wedding, which was 
to take place next day, and watch for an opportunity of 
exhibiting his prowess. Night had fallen when they reached 
the village, where their ears were greeted by the sweet 
notes of flute and harp, mingled with a clamour of tabors, 
tambourines, and cymbals. As they approached, they 
saw a spacious pavilion, whose floor was of soft turf, and 
its roof and walls of green boughs, through which shone 
a multitude of lamps, burning with a steady flame ; for the 
breeze was so faint that it had hardly power to ruffle the 
leaves of the trees. Merry groups were passing to and 
fro in all directions, some dancing, some singing, others 
playing on all sorts of instruments. In short, it seemed 
that the very spirit of gaiety and revel had taken posses- 
sion of that pleasant spot. 

After viewing the scene of the festivities for a short 
time, Don Quixote bade good-night to the student and 
his companions, intending to take up his lodging in the 
nearest wood, as was the fashion among knights-errant ; 
and with him went Sancho, sorely against his will, and 
thinking regretfully of his comfortable quarters in the 
home of Don Diego. 

II 

Don Quixote's slumber was short and light, and the sun 
was hardly risen when he left his hard couch, and went to 
call Sancho. That simple, faithful soul was still sleeping 
heavily ; and before rousing him Don Quixote bent over 
him with a look of affection, and murmured softly : " Happy 
art thou, beyond the common lot of men, who liest thus, 
unenvied and unenvying, breathing in quiet slumber, whose 



The Wedding of Camacho 169 

gentle spell banishes all thy little cares. Neither passion, 
nor ambition, nor the vain pomps of the world, have any 
power over thee ; thou takest no thought for the morrow, 
knowing that thy master has charge to provide thee with 
daily bread. So it ever is : Nature deals gently with the 
lowliest of her children, and smooths their path. The 
servant sleeps, the master keeps vigil ; the master's heart 
quakes at the tempest, and pines in the season of drought ; 
but the servant goes whistling to his labour, in fair and in 
foul, assured that he whom he has served in the days of 
plenty will not let him starve in times of famine." 

Finding that Sancho's slumbers were likely to be pro- 
longed, Don Quixote at length touched him with the 
butt-end of his lance, and when he had come to himself, 
he sat up and said, sniffing the air : " Either I am greatly 
deceived, or there is a savour and perfume coming from 
that pavilion over there which speaks much more of 
broiled bacon than of wild thyme and galingale. A 
wedding which begins with such a comfortable smell is 
likely, methinks, to be bountiful and generous." 

" Enough, thou glutton," said Don Quixote ; " make 
haste, and let us see what the scorned Basilio will do." 

" A fig for Basilio ! " rejoined Sancho ; " the lady 
would be a fool indeed if she preferred him, with all his 
airs and graces, to the rich Camacho, who can load her 
with jewels, and give her all that her heart can desire. 
Will this fine gallant ever earn the price of a cup of wine 
with his tennis-play and tricks of fence ? No, no ; 
Camacho's the man for me ; the other may be a very 
pretty fellow, but marrying without money is like building 
without a foundation." 

" A truce to thy prating ! " said Don Quixote testily. 



170 Stories from Don Quixote 

" Come, the music is beginning, and we have no time to 
lose, for doubtless the marriage will be celebrated in the 
coolness of the morning." 

A few minutes later they rode into the village, and 
there they saw a sight which gladdened the eyes of 
Sancho. In the centre of the green an enormous fire was 
blazing, and before it was roasting the whole carcase of a 
bullock, spitted on a stout stake of elmwood. Round the 
fire were ranged six great pots of earthenware, each as big 
as a wine-cask, and containing a full-grown sheep, which 
was swallowed up and lost in the depths of that huge 
cauldron. Hares ready skinned, and fowls plucked and 
trussed, were hanging from the trees by hundreds, waiting 
for interment in the pots ; and as to the smaller birds and 
other kinds of game, which were hung up in the shade to 
cool, there was no counting them. Sancho counted more 
than sixty wine-skins, holding at least a firkin apiece, and 
all full, as afterwards appeared, of generous wines. Loaves 
of the finest flour were piled up in heaps, and cheeses, 
arranged like bricks set up to dry, made a wall. Two portly 
jars, like vats in a dye-house, supplied the oil for frying 
dough-nuts, which were first browned well in boiling oil, 
and then withdrawn in two broad shovels, and steeped 
in a third jar, which stood ready, filled with honey. 
The cooks, men and women, numbered more than fifty, 
all clean, all busy, and all cheerful. Inside the bullock, 
sewn up in his capacious belly, were twelve delicious little 
sucking-pigs, which, roasting with the carcase, made it 
succulent and tender. In a great chest were displayed 
all kinds of spices, which seemed to have been bought, 
not by the pound, but by the peck. In short, the 
materials for this rustic feast were provided on so grand 



The Wedding of Camacho 171 

a scale that they would have sufficed for the appetite of a 
whole army. 

All this Sancho beheld, and all this he fell in love 
with. He knew not which way to turn, so much was he 
enamoured with everything that he saw. He gazed affec- 
tionately at the boiling cauldrons, and would fain have 
helped himself to a moderate stewpanful ; then his heart 
yearned towards the wine-skins, — and then again those 
crisp dough-nuts, with their golden brown, made his mouth 
water. At last he could bear it no longer, but, drawn by 
a force which he could not resist, went up to one of the 
bustling cooks, and with hungry mien and courteous 
words begged to be allowed to dip a morsel of bread in 
one of those pots. " Brother," answered the cook, " to-day 
at least hunger is not allowed to reign, thanks to the 
wealthy Camacho. Look about for a ladle, and skim off 
a fowl or so, and I hope it will do you good/' 

" I don't see any ladle," answered Sancho. " Bless the 
man ! " cried the cook, " how shamefaced and helpless 
he is ! " And taking up a cooking-pot, he dipped it into 
one of the cauldrons, and brought out three fowls and two 
geese, which he held out to Sancho, saying : " There, 
friend, this little snack will serve to stay your stomach 
until dinner." " But I have nothing to put it in," said 
Sancho. " Then take pot and all," replied the man. 
" Camacho's not the one to grudge it." 

Carrying his " little snack " with him, Sancho went to 
look for his master, and found him watching the wedding 
sports, which were now in full swing. Just at this 
moment a troop of a dozen young farmers, all hand- 
somely mounted and dressed in holiday attire, came 
cantering on to the green, with joyful shouts and a merry 



172 Stories from Don Quixote 

jingling of bells, which hung from their horses' breast- 
harness. Keeping good order, they careered up and down 
the field, crying out : " Long live Camacho and Quiteria ; 
he as rich as she is fair, and she the fairest in the world ! " 
Then followed a sword-dance, performed with wonderful 
dexterity by four and twenty lusty youths, all dressed in 
spotless white linen, and wearing on their heads fine 
silken turbans of various colours. Even Don Quixote, 
who was a connoisseur, declared that he had never seen 
anything to equal it. 

A rumbling of wheels was now heard, and a wooden 
castle came slowly forward, drawn by four men disguised 
as savages in jerkins of green sackcloth and long festoons 
of ivy, and looking so fierce that Sancho was somewhat 
alarmed. On the top of the castle sat a maiden, and 
behind it walked eight village girls, divided into two rows, 
and dressed in symbolical costumes. Each of the two 
parties was led by a youthful figure in male attire. " Tis 
a pretty piece of mummery," remarked Sancho, " but 
what does it mean ? " " It is a masque," explained Don 
Quixote, " or allegorical play, representing the two ruling 
passions of human nature. He who leads the first party 
is Cupid, the god of love, with his four supporters, Poetry, 
Discretion, Good Lineage, and Valour ; and the leader 
of the other is Interest, whose followers are Liberality, 
Bounty, Treasure, and Peaceful Possession. See, Cupid 
is aiming his arrow at the maiden in the castle ! Now 
Interest has his turn, and bombards the castle with gilded 
balls. Which of them, I wonder, will win the day ? " 

Even as he spoke, the question seemed to be answered 
in favour of Interest, who took a heavy purse and flung it 
at the castle with such force that the walls fell down with a 



The Wedding of Camacho 173 

crash, leaving the maiden without defence. Interest rushed 
up with his party, and throwing a chain of gold round her 
neck, was leading her away captive, when Cupid brought 
his followers to the rescue, and a mock struggle ensued. 
At last the two rival factions were reconciled by the inter- 
vention of the four men in green, the ruined castle was 
built up again with great expedition, and the pageant 
ended amid the loud applause of the spectators. 

Don Quixote was informed by one of the bystanders 
that the masque had been arranged by the parish priest, 
who had a fine gift of dramatic invention. " I should 
judge," observed our knight, " that this priest favours 
Camacho rather than Basilio." " And right too ! " cried 
Sancho, showing his cooking-pot full of geese and fowls ; 
" it will be a long time before I get such a ladleful as this 
from Basilio's kitchen M ; and picking out a fowl, he began 
to eat with infinite relish. " What care I," continued he, 
talking with his mouth full, " for this young spark with all 
his fine doings ? The scrapings of Camacho's dish are 
better than the whole larder of Basilio. Talk to me of 
valour ! Give me sterling value, I say, in good current 
coin." And so he went on, moralising and stuffing ; and 
the smell of the stew was so tempting that Don Quixote 
would have kept him company, had not his attention been 
diverted by a loud shout from the green, announcing the 
arrival of the bridal party. 

Ill 

Leaning on her father's arm, and followed by a throng 
of friends and relations, the bride walked demurely through 
the shouting multitude, with the priest and bridegroom in 



174 Stories from Don Quixote 

close attendance. She was dressed, as Sancho remarked, 
more like a grand Court lady than a simple village maiden; 
her robe was of rich green velvet, trimmed with white 
satin ; round her neck she wore a coral necklace, and her 
fingers were loaded with rings, heavily jewelled. " Marry 
hang the hussy ! " cried Sancho, unable to contain his 
wonder. " Did you ever see such hair ? — so long and so 
red — I never saw the like in- all my days ; — but perhaps 
it's false. A strapping lass she is, to be sure, like a date- 
palm with its load of fruit ; I warrant her to win her way 
against any odds." 

The procession passed on until it came to a sort of 
theatre, decorated with green boughs and carpets, where 
the marriage ceremony was to take place. At this moment 
a commotion arose among the crowd, and a voice was 
heard, crying : " Wait awhile, ye people, so heedless and 
so hasty ! " All turned their heads to see who was the 
speaker ; and in another moment he appeared, pushing 
his w T ay through the press, and advancing towards the spot 
where the bride and bridegroom were standing. He wore 
a black tunic, slashed so as to show a flame-coloured 
lining. On his head was a garland of cypress, and he 
carried in his hand a stout staff. As he drew near he 
was recognised by all as the gallant Basilio, and there 
was a sort of sob of suspended emotion as the people 
waited to see what the rejected lover would do. Slowly 
he came up to the bridal pair, and stopping in front of 
them, planted his staff in the ground, and with his eyes 
fixed on Quiteria, said in a hollow and broken voice : 
" Thou knowest, Quiteria, that so long as I live thou canst 
not wed with another. Thou art bound to me by a sacred 
tie, which cannot be broken save by mutual consent. But 






The Wedding of Camacho 175 

since thy fickle heart has been turned from me by the 
glitter of a rich man's gold, I will not stand in thy way. 
Let the wealthy Camacho live, and crown his fortune, 
already heaped with blessing, with the one treasure which 
should have been mine ; and let the poor Basilio die, and 
carry with him to the grave the curse which poverty has 
brought upon him." 

Having thus spoken, he plucked from the staff which 
he had planted before him a long glittering poniard, and 
fixing the weapon by the hilt in the turf, flung himself 
with desperate resolution on the point ; and there he lay, 
bathed in blood, with half the blade protruding between 
his shoulders. 

Don Quixote, who was close at hand, seated on Rozin- 
ante, dismounted instantly, and kneeling by Basilio's side, 
took him in his arms and found that he was still breathing. 
The wounded man's friends came flocking round, and pro- 
posed to draw out the dagger ; but the priest insisted on 
hearing his confession first, as he was sure to die as soon 
as the weapon was removed. Meanwhile, however, Basilio 
recovered from his swoon, and, speaking with pain and 
effort, said : " Cruel Quiteria, if thou wouldst give me thy 
hand in marriage, now when I am in the very pangs of 
death, methinks I might win pardon for this rash deed, 
having gained by it the joy of calling thee mine." 

" This is no time," said the priest severely, " to fix thy 
mind cm the vain things of the flesh. Turn thy thoughts 
heavenwards, my son, and pray that thou mayest be 
pardoned for thy great sin." Basilio vowed that he 
would never confess, but would die in his guilt, unless 
Quiteria consented to his last request. " He is very right," 
cried Don Quixote in a loud voice, " and Camacho may 



176 Stories from Don Quixote 

feel himself honoured in espousing a brave man's widow, 
the more so that the marriage is a mere name, and there 
is but one step from the altar to the grave." 

Basilio's friends now pressed round Camacho, urging 
him to allow the ceremony to take place ; and he, thinking 
that he was deferring the fulfilment of his wishes only for 
a moment, at last gave his consent. They next applied 
to Quiteria, who for some time seemed bent on refusing, 
and met all their tearful entreaties with a stony silence. 
" Come, despatch,'' said the priest, approaching. " Let it 
be Yes or No ; there is no time for dallying, for Basilio's 
spirit is fluttering between his teeth, and if you hesitate it 
will be too late." 

Then Quiteria, with slow and faltering step, went to 
the place where her lover was lying, and sinking on her 
knees, made signs that he was to give her his hand. 
Basilio gazed earnestly upon her, and said : " Thou hast 
deceived me in life, Quiteria, but do not deceive me in 
death : confess and declare that what thou doest is done 
of thy own free will, and that in giving me thy hand, thou 
givest me thy heart also," Thereupon he fell back fainting, 
so that all who saw him thought that he was breathing 
his last. But once more he came to himself, and Quiteria, 
taking his hand, said, with her face covered with blushes : 
" Of my own free choice I take thee for my lawful 
husband, if, with mind unclouded by thy present strait, 
thou canst say that such is thy true intent." " With true 
intent," answered Basilio, " and in full possession of all 
my faculties, I take thee to wife." " So be it, then," 
replied Quiteria, " and so it shall be, whether thou livest 
many years, or whether they carry thee from my arms to 
the tomb." 



The Wedding of Camacho 177 

" To hear this lad talk/' remarked Sancho at this 
point, "you would hardly suppose that he was mortally 
wounded. If his spirit is in his teeth, it makes his 
tongue very lively. Let him confess and be shriven, 
or he will be found courting and wooing with his last 
breath." 

The lovers remained with hands joined, while the 
priest, who was much affected, pronounced a blessing ; 
and no sooner had he ended than the newly-made 
husband, leaping to his feet, with incredible coolness drew 
forth the poniard which seemed to be sheathed in his 
body. All those who stood near were amazed, and some, 
who were more credulous than critical, cried, u A miracle ! 
a miracle ! w " No miracle, but contrivance/' said Basilio ; 
and throwing back his coat he showed an iron tube, which 
had been arranged to receive the weapon, and had been 
filled with blood specially prepared to prevent it from 
congealing. 

Learning from the priest that the marriage, having been 
brought about by a trick, was null and void, Quiteria 
declared roundly that she would abide by her word, thus 
making it plain that the whole was a plot, concerted 
between her and Basilio. Camacho and his friends were 
so enraged to find themselves thus fooled, that they drew 
their swords, and prepared to take speedy vengeance, 
while the supporters of Basilio, who were almost as 
numerous, were not less prompt in his defence. Don 
Quixote, on horseback, and armed with shield and spear, 
led the defending party, while Sancho, with a fine instinct, 
took sanctuary near the cauldrons which had furnished 
his stew, thinking that he would be safe from violence in 
that sacred spot. 



1 78 Stories from Don Quixote 

Our knight's aspect was so formidable that Camacho's 
adherents fell back a little, and perceiving his advantage, 
he raised his voice, and said : " Consider, sirs, before you 
proceed to bloodshed, whether you have justice on your 
side. You know the old saying, that all is fair in love 
and war, and you know also that in employing this strata- 
gem Basilio was seeking to gain possession of what 
was his own already, in the. sight of Heaven. Let not 
Camacho, who is otherwise so favoured of Fortune, envy 
his rival this one ewe lamb, which is all his wealth. If 
this is not enough, here I stand, ready to maintain the 
right against all comers " ; and thereupon he brandished 
his lance with such vigour and dexterity that all who did 
not know him thought him a very paladin. 

Don Quixote's arguments were backed by the priest, 
who put the case so strongly that Camacho, who was a 
sensible fellow, began to think himself lucky to have 
escaped from wedding a lady whose heart belonged to 
another. And in order to prove how little he felt his 
disappointment, he gave orders that the feasting and 
merry-making should go on, as if the marriage had really 
come to pass. 

Gladly would Sancho have remained among the flesh- 
pots, and played his part as a valiant trencherman ; but 
he was called to attend his master, who had been invited 
by the newly-wedded pair to accompany them to their 
village. And so, with many a " longing, lingering look 
behind," and carrying with him his stew-pan, which was 
now nearly empty, he rode slowly and sadly from the 
place of his delight. 



The Adventure of the Enchanted 
Bark 

ABOUT a week after the incidents last related, 
our two wanderers arrived at the river Ebro, a 
fair and copious stream, whose clear waters, 
flowing with placid current through a smiling land- 
scape, awakened in Don Quixote's susceptible bosom a 
thousand romantic thoughts. As he passed along the 
river-side, " chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy," 
he came upon a little boat, without oars or tackle, which 
was fastened to a tree overhanging the water. He looked 
round for the owner of the boat, but seeing no one he 
forthwith dismounted, and ordered Sancho to do the 
same, and secure Rozinante and Dapple by tying them 
fast to a willow which grew near. Sancho asked him 
what he proposed to do, and Don Quixote answered : 
" This bark, Sancho, is calling to me and inviting me in 
open and manifest terms to take my place in it, and go 
to the aid of some knight or other person of rank, who is 
doubtless in some perilous strait. It may be that he who 
has need of me is two or three thousand leagues distant 
from this spot, and therefore the magician who has care 
of him places this enchanted bark in my way, to waft me 
with the speed of thought to the land where the valour of 
my arm is needed." 

" It is for you to command, and for me to obey," said 

Sancho, with a sigh. "If your worship has got scent of 

179 



180 Stories from Don Quixote 

another adventure, there is no help for it ; nevertheless I 
would take leave to observe that this enchanted bark is 
neither more nor less than a fishing-boat, of which there are 
plenty about here, the river being famous for its shad." 
So saying, he went with gloomy resignation to tie up the 
animals, and then, returning to his master, asked what was 
to be done next ? " Done ? " answered Don Quixote, 
" commend ourselves to Heaven, and up anchor, — I 
should say, cut the cord by which this bark is tied." 
With that he leapt into the boat, and Sancho followed. 
The rope was cut, the boat drifted out into the current, and 
Sancho, who was no sailor, seeing himself at least two 
yards from the bank, fell into a great trembling, and gave 
himself up for lost. To add to his distress, at this moment 
Dapple began to bray, and Rozinante tugged at his 
halter, seeing which Sancho remarked to his master : 
" How pitifully Dapple calls to us to come back, and there 
is Rozinante trying to break away and plunge in after us ! 
Peace be with you, beloved friends ! And may we learn 
our folly in time, and seek your sweet society again ! M 
Thereupon he began to weep so bitterly that Don Quixote 
lost temper, and rebuked him severely. a What fearest 
thou, miserable coward ? Why weepest thou, heart of 
bread-and-butter? Who persecutes or distresses thee, 
soul of a domestic mouse ? What lackest thou yet, 
cradled in the bosom of abundance ? One would think 
that thou wert wandering barefoot in the stony wilds of 
Caucasus, instead of sitting, as thou art, like an archduke, 
and floating on this placid stream down towards the 
boundless sea. We have travelled already, as I should 
judge, seven or eight hundred leagues, and if I had the 
proper instruments I could tell thee exactly where we are, 



The Adventure of the Enchanted Bark 1 8 1 

— though I conjecture that we are nearing the Equator, 
if we have not passed it already." 

" No doubt your worship knows best," replied Sancho. 
" But, if I were asked, I should put the distance at some- 
thing less — say, five or six yards. I want no other 
instruments than my own eyes to show me Dapple and 
Rozinante, standing yonder in the place where we left 
them ; and, as to this magic bark, it seems to me to be 
moving no faster than a snail." 

" Thou art a dunce, Sancho," said Don Quixote, " and 
judgest grossly, according to thy dull earthly sense. If 
thy vision were purged and exalted by science, thou 
couldst read better the signs of the heavens, and then thou 
wouldst know how vast a space we have traversed." 

The boat now began to move faster, and rounding a 
bend of the river they came in sight of a large water-mill, 
built across the current. " Look ! " cried Don Quixote, 
in excited tones ; " we are now approaching the city, 
castle, or stronghold, in which is imprisoned the knight, 
princess, or other distressed person, for whose relief I have 
been brought hither." 

" Bless my stars ! " answered Sancho, " cannot your 
worship see that this is neither city, nor castle, nor fortress, 
but a mill for grinding corn ? " 

" Thou art deceived again," said Don Quixote. " Wilt 
thou never learn to distrust appearances, and not to credit 
the lying images conjured up by enchantment ? It looks 
like a mill, but it is nothing of the sort." 

The banks of the river narrowed, and the force of the 
current increased, sweeping the boat rapidly towards the 
place where the great mill-wheels were thundering and 
churning up the water. Happily for our rash voyagers, 



1 82 Stories from Don Quixote 

at this moment a number of men employed in the mill 
came running out, armed with long poles, and stood ready 
to stop the boat. Being covered from head to foot with 
mill-dust, they looked weird and fantastic enough as they 
stood brandishing their poles, and shouting some words, 
which were drowned by the roar of the wheels. And 
Don Quixote said to Sancho, " Didn't I tell thee that I 
should shortly have occasion to prove the valour of my 
arm ? Look at that ruffian crew, sallying forth to bar 
the approach to the castle. Aha ! villains, I will soon 
show you ! " — and, standing up in the boat, he began 
fencing in the air with his sword, crying to the millers : 
" Hearken, desperate and misguided horde ! Set free the 
captive whom ye keep immured in this castle or fortress, 
whatever be his rank or station, for I am Don Quixote 
de la Mancha, sometimes called the Knight of the Lions, 
and ordained by divine mandate to bring this adventure 
to a happy issue." 

The millers paid no attention to this rhapsody, but 
caught the boat, just as it was entering the mill-race, and 
drew it towards the bank. Whether by accident or de- 
sign, the boat was capsized within a yard of the shore, and 
Sancho, who was on his knees, praying fervently, was flung 
with his master into the water. They were drawn, drip- 
ping and gasping, to land, and Sancho no sooner felt firm 
ground under his feet than he dropped on his knees again, 
and put up a long and devout prayer to Heaven that he 
might never more take part in the hare-brained enterprises 
of his master. 

Sancho had just finished his devotions, and was sitting, 
wet and disconsolate, on the bank, when he was suddenly 
accosted by two or three fishermen, who seized him 



The Adventure of the Enchanted Bark 183 

roughly, and demanded payment for the loss of their boat, 
which had been broken up by the mill-wheels. Don 
Quixote came to his assistance, and said that he would 
willingly pay for the damage, on condition that the person 
or persons immured in that castle should be instantly 
set at liberty. " What is this talk about castles and 
prisoners, witless man ? " asked one of the millers. " Do 
you want to take with you the people who bring their corn 
to be ground at our mill ? " 

" I see how it is," said Don Quixote to himself ; " there 
are two powerful enchanters concerned in this affair, and 
between them they have brought matters to a standstill. 
One of them put the bark in my way, and the other 
tipped me into the water. Alas for the cross-currents 
and counter-workings of the powers that govern this world ! 
Let Heaven amend it, for I can do no more." Then, 
speaking aloud, and looking towards the mill, he said : 
" Friends, whoever ye be, imprisoned in this castle, my ill 
fortune and yours prevents me from succouring you in your 
affliction : forgive me, therefore, seeing that this adventure 
is reserved for some other knight." 

Having said this, he told Sancho to satisfy the fisher- 
men's claim, which amounted to fifty reals, and Sancho, 
after much grumbling, paid the money, observing that two 
such boating-trips would send their last farthing to the 
bottom. After this they were suffered to depart, and 
made their way back to the place where they had left 
Dapple and Rozinante. 



Don Quixote becomes the Guest 
of a Duke 



i 



PENSIVE and silent the knight and squire mounted 
their beasts and rode away from the river, Don 
Quixote sunk in amorous meditation, and Sancho 
planning how he might best break off his present partner- 
ship, which seemed to promise so little profit to himself. 
But Fortune had better things in store for him than he 
supposed. For on the evening of the next day, as they 
were entering a clearing in the forest, they were met by 
a gay company on horseback ; and a little in advance of 
the others was a lady, riding on a milk-white palfrey, 
with green trappings, and silver-mounted saddle, and 
dressed in a rich green habit of most rare device. On her 
left wrist she carried a hawk, and Don Quixote perceived 
at once that she was some great lady, and that the rest 
of the party were her attendants. So he bade Sancho 
carry his respectful greetings to her Highness, and say 
that he, the Knight of the Lions, begged leave to come 
and kiss her hands, and place himself at her disposal, in 
whatever she might command. " And choose thy words 
heedfully, son Sancho, taking care not to offend her ears 
with thy rude and rustic proverbs." " Trust me for that," 
answered Sancho : " I know how to deal with these dainty 
dames : a full pocket has no fear of quarter-day, — where 
184 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 185 

there are flitches, you will never want rashers, and a man 
with wits is never at a loss." 

The Duchess (for her rank was no less) already knew 
Don Quixote by report, for his mad whims and extra- 
vagant freaks had by this time made his name quite 
notorious ; so she received his ambassador with much 
kindness, gave a gracious assent to his offer of service, 
and after some pleasant conversation, Sancho was sent 
back to his master, to whom he gave a glowing account 
of the noble lady's beauty and condescension. A messenger 
was at once despatched to summon the duke, who arrived 
on the scene just as Don Quixote, collecting all his dignity, 
rode forward to the place where the ducal party stood. 
When he was close at hand, he drew up, and waited for 
Sancho to come and hold his stirrup ; but unluckily 
Sancho, in dismounting from Dapple, caught his foot in 
a rope belonging to the pack-saddle, and rolling over, re- 
mained dangling with his head downwards and his feet in 
the air. Don Quixote, whose mind was preoccupied by 
the approaching interview, thinking that Sancho had his 
stirrup fast, flung his weight into it with such suddenness 
that the saddle slipped, and he fell with no little violence 
to the ground. The Duke ordered his servants to extri- 
cate the knight and squire from their uncomfortable posi- 
tion, and Don Quixote, being set on his feet, came up, 
limping painfully, to the Duke and Duchess, and made as 
if he would kneel to them ; but he was prevented by the 
Duke, who sprang from his horse, and, embracing him, 
said : "It grieves me, Sir Knight of the Doleful Visage, 
that your first appearance on my land has been so like 
your name ; but worse things have happened through the 
carelessness of squires." 
o 



1 86 Stories from Don Quixote 

" Though I had fallen," answered Don Quixote loftily, 
" into the bottomless pit, the glory of having seen you, 
valiant Prince, would have given me wings to ascend again. 
But whether I be fallen or uplifted, on foot or on horse- 
back, I shall always be at your service, and at the service 
of that star of beauty, that mirror of courtesy, your gracious 
consort the Duchess." 

" Not so fast, Sir Knight," said the Duke, smiling. 
a Your words imply some disparagement of the peerless 
Dulcinea del Toboso." 

Here Sancho, who was standing near, thrust in his 
word, and said : " When none is looking for her, up pops 
the hare ; Dame Nature is like a potter, who, if he can 
make one pretty pitcher, can make a hundred ; so there 
is no lack of pretty faces, and though my lady Dulcinea 
is comely, the Duchess is no less so." 

" This squire of mine," observed Don Quixote to the 
Duchess, " is the maddest wag, and the greatest babbler, 
that ever served knight-errant, as your Grace will learn, if 
I have the honour of serving you for a few days." 

" I promise myself much entertainment from his wit," 
replied the Duchess ; " and if you will accompany us to 
our castle, we hope to convince you that we know how to 
receive so distinguished a guest as yourself." The invita- 
tion was warmly seconded by the Duke ; and when Sancho 
had adjusted Rozinante's saddle, Don Quixote mounted, 
and was conducted by his noble hosts to their hunting 
seat. 

II 

Some time before they arrived at the castle, the Duke 
excused himself, and rode forward to give instructions to 






Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 187 

his household as to the proper manner of receiving these 
strange guests. Both he and the Duchess were deeply 
read in the books of chivalry, and delighted to form the 
acquaintance of a man who had modelled his life on 
those preposterous romances, expecting to make matter 
for infinite laughter by complying with his mad humour. 
Accordingly, when Don Quixote appeared with the Duchess 
and her train, he was received with profound respect ; two 
lacqueys, in gorgeous liveries, lifted him from the saddle, 
two beautiful maidens threw a rich scarlet robe over his 
shoulders, and then he was ushered into a spacious cor- 
ridor, filled with a throng of bowing domestics, who cried 
with one voice : " Welcome to the flower and cream of 
knights-errant ! " while some of them sprinkled him with 
phials of perfumed water. It was indeed a proud moment 
for the Knight of La Mancha, who saw himself treated, 
for the first time in his life, with the reverence due to his 
great profession. 

Sancho, who had attached himself closely to the Duchess, 
followed her into the castle, leaving Dapple outside. But 
feeling some compunction at this desertion of his long- 
eared friend, he addressed himself to a venerable duenna 
who had come out with the others to receive her lady, 
and said to her in a low voice : " Worthy Madam, I have 
left a dappled ass, belonging to me, at the castle gate : 
the poor little beast is somewhat fearful, and doesn't like 
being alone at all : would you be kind enough to take 
him to the stable, or see that someone does it ? " 

" Hoity-toity ! " cried the dame, incensed at this affront 
to her dignity. " If the master has as much wit as the 
man, we are in luck. Off with you, saucy companion, and 
plague take you, and him who brought you hither ! See 



1 88 Stories from Don Quixote 

to the ass yourself, for the ladies of this house are not 
accustomed to such employment." 

" I have heard from my master," rejoined Sancho, " that 
when Lancelot came to Britain, duennas took care of his 
steed — and I am sure my ass is as good as his horse." 

The dispute grew hotter, and at last Sancho crowned 
his offence by a rude allusion to the lady's age, whereupon 
she flew into a passion, and .screamed so loud that the 
Duchess heard her, and asked what was the matter. " The 
matter is," replied the infuriated dame, " that this fellow 
asks me to put his ass in the stable, quoting some crazy 
ballad to support his impudence ; and because I refused, 
he calls me old." 

" That is certainly a grave offence," remarked the 
Duchess. 

" Madam," replied Sancho, " I did not mean it so : only 
I love my ass so much, that I asked this good lady to 
take care of him, because she has such a kind face." 

Leaving the duenna somewhat mollified by this apology, 
Sancho went to attend his master at his toilette, as the 
dinner-hour was approaching. When they were alone 
together, Don Quixote rebuked him for the freedom of 
his behaviour in that high presence, and warned him to 
keep a guard on his tongue in future. Sancho promised 
amendment, and soon after they were summoned to the 
dining-hall, where they found their hosts waiting for them, 
with a grave ecclesiastic, who was the Duke's confessor 
and spiritual adviser. This dignitary looked sourly at 
Don Quixote, and hardly deigned to acknowledge his 
respectful greeting. 

The Duke invited Don Quixote to take the head of 
the table. Don Quixote declined politely, saying that it 




CO 






Z> 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 189 

was too high an honour. The Duke insisted, and after a 
vast amount of complimenting and protesting, our knight 
was compelled to yield the point, and take the chief seat. 
Opposite to him was the sullen cleric, and the Duke and 
Duchess placed themselves to the right and left. Sancho, 
who had posted himself behind his master's chair, listened 
with great attention to the contest of courtesy between 
Don Quixote and his hosts, and when it was settled he 
said : " If I have permission I could tell a good story 
about this matter of seats." At the sound of his voice 
Don Quixote winced visibly, fearing that Sancho would 
make him ridiculous. " Fear not, dear sir," said Sancho, 
observing the gesture, " it's a very good story, and very 
much to the point." " Well, go on," replied his master, 
" but make it as short as thou canst." " 'Tis as true as 
gospel, this story," continued Sancho, " and my master 
knows it." " True or false," cried the knight impatiently, 
" it's all one to me. Proceed, I say, but consider well thy 
words." " They are very well considered," said Sancho, 
with a wink ; " never fear, none can get at me here." 
Don Quixote here turned to the Duke and Duchess, and 
said : " Your Graces had better order this booby out, or 
there will be no end to his gabble." " No, no," answered 
the Duchess, "Til not be parted from my Sancho ; I love 
him much, for he is a very pleasant x fellow." " Pleasant 
be the days of your holiness," cried Sancho, " for thinking 
so well of me. But to our tale : There was in my village 
a wealthy and high-born gentleman, who invited — but 
first you must know that this gentleman came of the first 
grandees in Spain, and his wife was a daughter of that 
Don Alonso who was drowned in the great shipwreck off 

1 I.e. witty, as often in the older writers. 



190 Stories from Don Quixote 

Malaga, the same Don Alonso about whom there was a 
brawl some years ago in our village, when that naughty 
little rogue, Thomas, the blacksmith's son, was wounded. 
My master will bear me out in this, for he took part in 
the affair." 

" So far," said Don Quixote, " thou hast not departed 
from the truth ; but the story, man, the story ! " 

" Don't hurry him," interposed the Duchess. " I could 
listen to him for a week." 

" I say, then," continued Sancho, " that this gentleman 
— dear man, I knew him so well — his house was not a 
bow-shot from mine." 

" O, go on ! " groaned the priest. " Art thou going to 
keep us waiting till the day of judgment ? " 

" I shall have finished in half that time, with heaven's 
blessing," rejoined Sancho. " Invited, as I was saying, a 
certain farmer, poor but honest, to dinner. The farmer 
came, and the gentleman who had invited him — heaven 
rest his soul, for he made a blessed end, as I afterwards 
heard, though I was not there, having taken a job at 
harvesting away from home." 

" Get in your own harvest," cried the cleric, " and don't 
stop to bury the gentleman, or there will be more work 
for the undertaker." 

" You must know, then, that just as they were going to 
sit down at table — I mean these two, the gentleman and 
the farmer — which I think I see them now, as large as 
life " Here he paused again, as if lost in that agree- 
able retrospect ; while Don Quixote fidgeted, the priest 
fumed, and the Duke and Duchess laughed inwardly, 
being highly diverted by Sancho's garrulity and its effect 
on the others. 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 191 

" Well," resumed Sancho, " as I was telling you, they 
were just going to sit down, and the gentleman would 
have it that the farmer should take the head of the 
table, but the farmer wouldn't hear of it, protesting that 
he knew his place better. At last the gentleman, being 
provoked by his obstinacy, took him by the shoulders, and 
thrust him by force into the chair, crying, Sit down, you 
bumpkin, for wherever I sit will be head of the table to you. 
This is the story,and I think it is not much beside the mark." 

At this unexpected conclusion Don Quixote's swarthy 
visage was mottled with yellow, and the Duchess, fearing 
a violent explosion, swallowed her laughter, and turned 
the conversation by asking what was the last news of 
Dulcinea. Don Quixote rose to the bait, and for the rest 
of the meal all their talk was of giants and captive 
princesses, " of forests and enchantments drear." The 
priest listened with growing irritation to all these 
extravagances, and at last, losing all patience, he rebuked 
his patrons severely for encouraging a madman in his 
vagaries. " And as for you, Don Quixote, or Don Crack- 
pate, or whatever your name is, you had better go home 
and take care of your family, and give up these fooleries, 
never seen or heard before out of a madhouse." 

Don Quixote replied with great keenness and spirit, 
and proved himself more than a match for the enraged 
ecclesiastic, who, finding that his monitions were received 
with ridicule, bounced out of the room, vowing that he 
would never appear again as long as that madman was in 
the house. 

When dinner was over, the Duchess withdrew to her 
private apartments taking with her Sancho, whose 
oddities and droll sayings diverted her beyond measure. 



192 Stories from Don Quixote 

III 

The steward of the Duke's household was a clever and 
humorous fellow, and having obtained permission of his 
master, two or three days after Don Quixote's arrival he 
arranged a pageant which was well calculated to act on 
the knight's disordered fancy. 

On the day appointed, the Duke and Duchess, with 
Sancho and his master, were sitting in the garden after 
dinner, when suddenly they heard the dismal squeaking 
of a fife, and the hoarse sounds of a " boisterous, untuned 
drum." All waited in suspense to learn the meaning of 
that martial music. Don Quixote pricked up his ears, 
and Sancho, in great alarm, took refuge behind the chair 
of the Duchess. Presently three men entered the garden, 
clothed from head to foot in sable weeds of woe. One 
of them played the fife, and the other two banged a pair 
of drums ; and their instruments, like themselves, were 
draped with black. Behind them walked, with steps 
timed to the music, a man of gigantic figure, robed in a 
loose black gown, with a long train sweeping the ground at 
his heels. An enormous scimitar, with sheath and hilt of 
blackened metal, hung by a broad baldrick, of the same 
mournful hue, from his shoulder. On his face he wore a 
veil of crape, below which descended a long snow-white 
beard. Slowly and majestically he came on, and on arriving 
at the place where the Duke was standing, he dropped on 
his knees, and began to speak ; but the Duke refusing to 
hear him in that position, he rose to his feet, and, fixing 
his eyes on the Duke, said in deep tones fetched up from 
the depths of his cavernous breast : — 

" High and mighty Prince, my name is Trifaldin of the 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 193 

White Beard, and I am squire to the Countess Trifaldin, 
whose new title is the Doleful Duenna ; as her envoy 
have I come, craving licence for her to appear in your 
presence and tell her tale of woe, the woefullest and dole- 
fullest that ever fell on mortal ear. She has come on 
foot, and fasting, all the way from the kingdom of 
Candaya, in search of the undaunted and indomitable 
knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, and hearing that he 
is staying as a guest in your castle, she awaits only your 
permission to enter and make her petition to him face 
to face." 

" Bid your mistress approach," answered the Duke. 
" Here stands Don Quixote, ready to aid her with heart 
and hand ; and for myself, I promise to do all that in me 
lies to relieve her in her distressful state." 

Trifaldin made his obeisance, the drums beat, the fife 
struck up a marching tune, and with the same slow and 
stately gait with which he had entered, the envoy with- 
drew. 

After a short interval the music was heard again, and 
twelve duennas, walking two and two, filed into the gar- 
den, all dressed like nuns, in flowing robes of serge, and 
over these veils of white cambric, reaching to their skirts. 
After these came the white-bearded squire, leading by the 
hand the Countess Trifaldi, whose gown was of black 
bombazine, with a triple train, borne by three pages, all 
dressed in mourning. From the last-mentioned circum- 
stance the Countess derived her name, which signifies The 
Countess with the Triple Train. All the ladies wore 
heavy black veils, entirely concealing their faces. 

On reaching the place where the Duke and his party 
stood waiting, the twelve duennas halted, and drew up in 



194 Stories from Don Quixote 

two lines, facing each other, through which the Countess 
passed, still keeping hold of Trifaldin's hand. The Duke 
advanced to meet her, and conducted her to a seat by the 
side of the Duchess. After some exchange of courtesies, 
the Countess asked leave to tell her story ; and permission 
being granted, she proceeded as follows : — 

" Maguncia, Queen of Candaya, a famous land lying to 
the south of Trapobana, 1 had an only daughter named 
Antonomasia, and I, as chief of the Queen's duennas, was 
chosen to have sole charge of her rearing and education. 
She grew up a paragon of beauty and good sense, and at 
the age of fourteen was wooed and won by Don Clavijo, 
a gallant young cavalier of the Court, with whom, by my 
connivance, she entered into a secret marriage ; for, she 
being a princess, and he but a poor gentleman, we knew 
that the Queen would never have consented to the union. 
After some months, during which Clavijo visited his wife 
in secret, the Queen got wind of the matter, and applied 
to the Church to separate the young pair ; but to her 
intense chagrin the marriage was declared valid, and 
within three days of the decision the Queen died of pure 
spite and vexation. 

" On the day of her burial, just as the last farewell had 
been spoken, there appeared on the top of her tomb the 
giant Malambruno, who was the Queen's first cousin, and 
an evil wizard. By his magic art he turned the young 
Antonomasia into a brazen monkey, and her husband 
into a crocodile, of some unknown metal, and declared 
that they should never return to their proper shape until 
Don Quixote de la Mancha should come and engage him 
in single combat, to which end he promised to send a 

1 Ceylon. " The famous realm of Candaya " is, of course, mythical. 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 195 

wondrous wooden horse, who would waft the valiant 
Manchegan in the twinkling of an eye to the distant 
realm of Candaya. 

" Nor did his vengeance stop here ; for having sum- 
moned all the duennas of the palace, with me at their 
head, into his presence, he laid a peculiar curse upon us, 
only to be removed by Don Quixote's appearance in 
Candaya ; and on the instant we felt a tingling and 
pricking in our faces, and feeling with our hands, found 
ourselves deformed and disgraced as you see us now." 
And with that the Doleful Duenna lifted her veil, as did 
also all the other twelve, and displayed to view a goodly 
show of beards, red, black, white, and grey, to the no 
small astonishment of Don Quixote, Sancho, and the 
rest. The Duke and Duchess, who were in the secret, 
affected to be equally amazed. 

" Such," concluded the bearded lady, " is our piteous 
case ; and if I weep not, it is because the fountains of my 
sorrow are dried up, after shedding a whole ocean of 
tears." And, overcome by her emotions, she fell back 
half-fainting in her seat. 

" By the faith of a knight-errant," cried Don Quixote, 
" I would tear out my own beard — yea, though I were an 
infidel Moor — rather than fail these distressed ladies in 
their sad extremity." 

" Heaven bless you for that word, brave knight ! " 
exclaimed the Countess, recovering from her faintness, 
11 and let the deed follow without delay." 

" Only let me know what I must do," replied the 
knight, " and you will not find me wanting." 

" We must wait," said the lady, " for the wooden horse, 
who will arrive here to-night. His name is Clavilefio, 



196 Stories from Don Quixote 

signifying Peg-Horse, for he is guided by turning a 
wooden peg which he carries on his forehead. So smooth 
is his action that when he is going at full speed his rider 
can hold a cup full of water without spilling a drop." 

" I'll back my ass against him for smooth going," quoth 
Sancho : " There's no such pacer as Dapple to be found 
anywhere. How many does your Peg-Horse carry ? " 

" Two/' replied the Duenna ; " the knight and his 
squire ; and you, Sancho, will mount behind your master, 
and ride to Candaya behind him." 

" Body o' me, but I won't, then ! " rejoined Sancho : 
" Do you think that I, who can hardly ride in comfort on 
a well-stuffed pad, am going prancing for two thousand 
leagues on a bare log of wood ? Let them keep their 
beards, for me ! I'll not be pounded to a jelly for all the 
beards in the world." 

" Thou wilt do as I bid thee, Sancho," said his master ; 
" and let the horse come, for the sun has set, and night is 
at hand." 

IV 

Darkness had closed in, and Don Quixote was growing 
impatient, when he saw coming up the garden four men, 
draped like savages in green ivy, who bore on their 
shoulders a big wooden horse. They planted the charger 
on the ground, and one of them cried : " Mount, mount, 
brave knight, and ride away ! And thou, worthy squire, 
shalt ride behind him on the crupper." " Shall I, indeed ?" 
muttered Sancho : " Ay, ay, we will see about that ! " 
Then the man explained how the horse was to be guided 
by the peg, and having added that the riders must be 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 197 

blindfolded, to save them from giddiness in their airy 
flight, he and his companions withdrew. 

Don Quixote at once prepared to mount, and ordered 
Sancho to take the back seat ; but Sancho stubbornly 
refused, vowing that he would not leave his present 
quarters, where he found himself so comfortable, to go 
galloping through the air, like a witch on a broomstick, 
no, not if the duennas were to go bearded to their graves 
for want of him. Seeing that the jest would be spoiled 
if he persisted in his refusal, the Duke gave him a hint, 
which he knew would be sure to take effect. " You 
remember, Sancho," he said, " what I promised you yester- 
day ? " Sancho nodded, understanding what he meant. 
" Very well, then," continued the Duke, " either you go 
with Don Quixote, or I revoke that promise." " Enough 
said," replied Sancho : " Let them bandage my eyes, and 
so up and away, and the saints preserve us ! " 

Don Quixote was blindfolded first, but before mounting 
he turned to the Countess Trifaldi, and said : " Perhaps 
this Clavilefio is like the famous Trojan Horse, who 
carried a cargo of spearmen inside him ; methinks, then, 
that it would be wise, before we start, to make an inspec- 
tion, and see what he has in his belly." 

" Have no fear," answered the Countess, " Malambruno 
is honest, and plays no such tricks." 

Then without further scruple Don Quixote climbed on 
to Clavileno's back, and having no stirrups, he sat with his 
legs dangling, like some figure in a Roman triumph, 
depicted in a piece of Flemish tapestry. 

With slow and reluctant steps Sancho went up to the 
steed of wood, and, when they had blindfolded him, he 
mounted painfully and seated himself astride behind Don 



198 Stories from Don Quixote 

Quixote. " Ugh ! " he grunted, " this horse is surely 
made of granite, and not of timber. I beseech your 
Graces, let them bring me a pillow or cushion to sit on, 
or I shall be galled horribly." 

" It cannot be," said the Duenna, " Clavilefio endures 
no trappings, or upholstery of any sort ; but you may sit 
side-ways, which will take off the hardness a little." 
Sancho did so, and being now on the brink of this 
tremendous adventure, he began to weep pitifully, and 
implored all those present to give him the benefit of their 
prayers. " Wretch," said Don Quixote angrily, " Art 
thou at the gallows' foot, or in the very pangs of death, 
that thou desirest such intercession ? Be still, I say, 
and offend not mine ears by thy cowardly whimpering." 
" It is hard," replied Sancho, complainingly, " that I can't 
ask for a Pater Noster or so, when I am stuck up here, 
like a thief in the pillory ; but go on, master — I am mute." 

The fatal moment being now arrived, Don Quixote felt 
for the peg, and turned it ; and hardly had he done so, 
when all who were looking on cried in a loud voice : 
" They are off ! — See, there goes Clavilefio, cleaving the 
air like an arrow ! — Heaven guide thee, gallant knight ! — 
Hold fast, Sancho, for if thou fallest, it will be worse for 
thee than for that rash youth x who aspired to drive the 
Sun-god's chariot." 

When Sancho heard this, he flung his arms round Don 
Quixote, and clung to him for dear life. Yet he wondered 
to hear the voices so plainly, and asked the knight how 
this was possible, now that they were high up in the air? 
" That is easily explained," said Don Quixote, " we have 
now soared beyond the material barriers of Nature, and 

1 Phaethon. 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 199 

our senses are so exalted that we can see and hear things 
a thousand leagues away — But don't hug me so hard, or 
thou wilt throw me off. I know not what thou hast to 
dread, for never in all my life have I had so easy a mount : 
we might be standing stock-still. Courage, comrade, for 
we have a fair voyage, and the wind a-poop." " In truth/' 
observed Sancho, " there is a strong breeze, as if a dozen 
pair of bellows were playing on us." 

And such, indeed, was the fact ; for the Duke's servants 
had brought several large pairs of bellows, which they were 
plying lustily. The breeze continuing, Don Quixote said : 
" Doubtless, Sancho, we have now reached the second belt 
of the earth's atmosphere, the native region of hail and 
snow ; and at the pace we are going, we shall soon pass 
into the zone of fire, which may prove too hot for us." 

"Oh! Oh!" cried Sancho, in a voice of alarm, "we 
are there already, and my beard is getting singed." 

The warmth which Sancho felt came from some lighted 
pieces of tow, fastened to the end of a cane, and waved 
before their faces by one of the Duke's men. 

" Methinks we must be nearing our goal," said Don 
Quixote presently, after the singeing had ceased : " Clavi- 
lefio seems to pause, like a goshawk collecting himself to 
swoop on his prey : in a minute we shall drop down on 
the realm of Candaya." 

" That's as it may be," answered Sancho ; " but one 
thing is certain — if Malambruno's lady rides on this 
crupper, she must be more than commonly tough." 

All this dialogue gave vast entertainment to the Duke 
and Duchess and their followers, who were gathered round 
the wooden horse, watching the valiant pair ; and think- 
ing that it was now time to bring the comedy to a con- 



200 Stories from Don Quixote 

elusion, they set fire to Clavilefio's tail, and, as the monster 
was filled with crackers, a loud explosion followed ; the 
horse gave a furious plunge, and Don Quixote and Sancho 
were flung, half scorched, to the ground. 

When they came to themselves, they found to their 
amazement that they were still in the Duke's garden, from 
which they had started. The whole squadron of bearded 
duennas had disappeared, and the rest of the party lay 
stretched, apparently senseless, on the ground. To in- 
crease the marvel, they saw a tall lance fixed in the turf 
on one side of the garden, and hanging from it by two 
cords of green silk a smooth white parchment, with the 
following inscription, written in large letters : — 

" The renowned knight Don Quixote de La Mancha 
has achieved the adventure of the Dolorous Duenna and 
her company, by merely attempting it. The duennas 
have lost their beards — every hair of them ; and Don 
Clavijo and Antonomasia are restored to their former 
shapes. By order of the sage Merlin, Protomagician of 
Magicians." 

" Let us be thankful, Sancho," said Don Quixote, after 
reading the placard, " that with so little danger we have 
performed this grand feat." Then he went up to the 
Duke, who was still lying, as if in a fit, and pressing his 
hand, said : " up, sir, and be not dismayed : the deed is 
done, and all is well." 

The Duke recovered slowly from his pretended swoon, 
and one by one the others stirred and roused themselves, 
playing their part so well that it really seemed as if they 
had fainted. Then the placard was read out, amid cries 
of wonder and admiration ; and all agreed that Don 
Quixote was the greatest hero that the world had ever seen. 



Don Quixote the Guest of a Duke 201 

The Duchess asked Sancho to give an account of what 
happened to him in that wondrous flight. " Well," 
answered that truthful squire, " you must know that I am 
a little inquisitive, so, when we got to the region of fire, I 
pulled up a corner of the bandage, and looking down 
below me I saw the earth, like a grain of mustard-seed, 
and people walking about, of the size of hazel-nuts." 

" If the earth was so much smaller than its inhabitants, 
how did they find room on it?" inquired the Duchess. 

" Enchantment, your Highness, all enchantment," re- 
plied Sancho. " After that, we came so near to the sky 
that I could touch it with my hand ; and we were just 
passing the place where the seven little she-goats 1 live. 
Now I used to be a goatherd, when I was a little boy, 
and I was mighty eager, even to bursting, to go and have 
a frolic with the pretty things. So without a word to my 
master, I got down, and went and played with the kids — 
little pets they are, like so many clove gilly-flowers — and 
all the time, which was full three-quarters of an hour, 
Clavilefio never offered to budge." 

" What are these kids like ? " asked the Duchess. 

" Two are green," answered Sancho, " two crimson, two 
blue, and one piebald." 

" A strange breed," observed the Duke ; " I never saw 
any of that kind down here." 

" Of course not," said Sancho, " these goats are heavenly 
and must differ from those of earth." 

" O Sancho, Sancho ! " exclaimed Don Quixote, " have 
done with these lies." 

" Lies, sir ? " retorted Sancho ; " I warrant there are 
worse lies in your books of chivalry." 

1 A popular Spanish name for the Pleiades. 
P 



Sancho and His Isle 
i 

IT will be remembered that when Sancho refused to 
mount the wooden charger the Duke reminded him 
of a certain promise, threatening to cancel it if he 
continued obstinate. This promise had reference to the 
mysterious Isle so often mentioned, which was the glittering 
bait held out by Don Quixote when he first enlisted Sancho 
as his squire. In his conversations with the Duchess, Sancho 
had frequently made mention of his darling ambition, and 
declared himself fit to take charge of a whole archipelago 
of Isles ; and the Duke, who had heard of the matter from 
his wife, thought that it would be a rare jest to place his 
fat little friend in the coveted position, where he could not 
fail to exhibit his waggish humour to great advantage. 
The place chosen for the scene of Sancho's governorship 
was a large village, with about a thousand inhabitants, 
lying within the jurisdiction of the Duke. It was, indeed, 
an island only in name, being situated in the heart of the 
peninsula ; but that made no difference to Sancho, whose 
notions of geography were of the cloudiest. 

The day after his ride on Clavilefio, Sancho, having 
listened to a long lecture from his master on the duties 
and obligations of a ruler, set out, under charge of 
the Duke's steward, to enter on his new office. On the 
way he learnt that the place was called Barataria, or 
Swindletown ; and when he arrived at the gates of the 



Sancho and His Isle 203 

town he was received by a deputation of the chief inhabi- 
tants, who, having received notice of the Duke's intention, 
were prepared to play their part in the farce with all due 
gravity. So, amid the ringing of bells and the shouts of 
the townsfolk, Sancho was conducted to the principal 
church, and after hearing mass he was presented with the 
keys of the town, and solemnly installed as chief magis- 
trate of the Isle of Barataria. 

Great was the wonder of those who were not in the 
secret, and even of those who were — and these were not 
a few — at the dress, the beard, and the little round person 
of the new Governor. Nevertheless Sancho bore himself 
with unshaken dignity, and being now duly installed, he 
was taken to the hall of judgment, where he was to hold 
his court as chief magistrate. A secretary, specially 
appointed by the Duke, sat ready at a table below him, to 
write down a full report of all his sayings and doings. 

" What is that writing on the wall opposite to me ? ,J 
asked Sancho, pointing to some large letters newly painted 
above the entrance of the chamber. " It announces the 
appointment of Don Sancho Panza as Governor/' answered 
the steward, who was in attendance. " Don Sancho Panza? 
and who is he ? " inquired Sancho. " Who but your lord- 
ship's self?" replied the steward. " And since when was 
I called Don ? My name is plain Sancho Panza, and 
there has never been a don or a doiia in my family that I 
ever heard of. Doubtless your dons are as plentiful as 
gooseberries in this Isle ; but Til weed them out before I 
have been here a week." 

The court was now declared open, and the suitors began 
to come in, bringing various complaints and petitions to 
be decided by the Governor. In the first case the plaintiff 



204 Stories from Don Quixote 

was a tailor, who had come in haste, scissors in hand, to 
claim payment from a labouring man, who appeared with 
him, for work executed according to order. " What was 
the work ? " asked Sancho. " He brought me a piece of 
cloth," answered the tailor, " and asked me if it was enough 
to make a cap. I looked at it, and answered yes ; then 
he asked if there was enough for two, and I, seeing what 
he would be at, answered yes again ; and so he went on, 
increasing the number, until he got to five caps, which I 
made — and here they are." And so saying he drew forth 
his hand, which he had been hiding under his coat, and 
displayed five little caps, each perched on the top of one 
of his fingers. " You see," he explained, " the man thought 
that all tailors were cheats, and hoped to get the better of 
me ; but he has found his match." 

Sancho considered a moment and then gave his decision, 
which was that the customer should lose his cloth and the 
tailor his labour, and that the caps should be sold for the 
benefit of the prisoners in the gaol. 

The next to enter were two old men, one of whom 
carried a cane on which he leaned as he walked. " My 
lord," said the other, who was without a staff, " a long 
time ago I lent this man ten gold crowns, which he pro- 
mised to pay back when I should ask for them. The debt 
remained standing for many days, as I did not wish to put 
him to inconvenience; but at last, thinking that he intended 
to evade payment altogether, I went to him and demanded 
my money back. At first he denied all knowledge of the 
debt, and when I insisted he declared that he had paid me 
already. The money was lent without witnesses, so that 
there is no evidence but his word against mine. Now if 
he will swear an oath in the presence of the Court that he 



Sancho and His Isle 205 

has put the money in my hands I will forgive him the 
debt, and say no more about it." 

The old man with the walking-cane said that he was 
ready to take the oath required, and handing his stick 
to the other to hold, touched Sancho's rod of office, and 
swore that he had handed over the money. The creditor 
declared himself satisfied, and the case was dismissed ; 
but soon after the old man had left the court, Sancho, 
who had been sitting with bowed head and the forefinger 
of his right hand laid along his nose, as if thinking 
deeply, looked up sharply and said, " Call these men 
back ! " It was done, and Sancho, looking at the old 
man who had taken the oath, and who was now carrying 
his stick again, said, " Give me that stick." " With 
pleasure," said the old man, handing him the stick, which 
Sancho at once placed in the hands of the other old man, 
saying, " Go, in Heaven's name, for now you are paid." 
" What ? " said the other ; " is this cane worth ten gold 
crowns ? " " Yes," said the Governor ; " if not, call me a 
numskull. Take that stick and break it in half," he 
added, giving the cane to an attendant ; " I will show you 
whether I have wit enough to govern a whole kingdom." 

The man did as he was ordered, and in the hollow of 
the stick they found the ten crowns of gold. Sancho 
then explained that he had observed how the old man, 
before taking the oath, had been careful to hand the stick 
to the plaintiff, so that in swearing that he had placed 
the money in his creditor's hands, he was only stating 
what was literally true. So the old man got his money, 
the lying debtor was put to shame, and Sancho covered 
himself with glory, seeming a very Solomon for shrewdness 
and penetration. 



206 Stories from Don Quixote 

II 

After these grave judicial labours Sancho adjourned to 
dinner, which was laid ready in the banquet-hall of a 
sumptuous palace. His entrance was greeted by a peal 
of music, and four pages approached, bringing water for 
his hands. Sancho sat down at the head of the table, 
and a grave personage, who., as it afterwards appeared, 
was a physician, came and stood by his side, holding a 
short rod of whalebone in his hand. After grace had 
been pronounced, a fringed bib was arranged by a page 
under Sancho's chin, and a plate of fresh fruit was set 
before him. But hardly had he eaten a mouthful when 
the physician touched the plate with his rod, and it was 
whisked away with lightning rapidity. They brought 
him another dish, but before he had time to try it, the 
signal was repeated, and it disappeared as quickly as the 
fruit. 

" What does this mean ? " asked Sancho, staring about 
him in bewilderment. w Am I to have my dinner, or are 
we playing bob- cherry ? " 

" The Governor of an Isle." anwered he with the rod, 
" must eat according to fixed rule and precedent. I, my lord, 
am paid to act as the Governor's physician, and it is my 
business to see that he eats nothing which might be of 
prejudice to his health. I ordered the fruit to be removed, 
as being too watery, and the other dish because it was 
over-spiced, and provocative of thirst." 

,( Well, then," said Sancho, M what do you say to those 
roast partridges ? I'm sure they can't hurt me." 

" You must not touch them," answered the physician. 
" Hippocrates, the pole-star and chief luminary of the 




55 
S3 



Sancho and His Isle 207 

healing art, has these words : All surfeit is bad y but a 
surfeit on partridges is worst of all!' 

" For Heaven s sake, then," cried Sancho, " show me 
something which I may eat, if you would not have me 
die of hunger." 

The man of learning made the round of the table, 
critically inspecting the dishes. " Rabbit — no, you 
mustn't eat rabbit ; it is dry and indigestible. Now this 
veal is wholesome meat, but it is served in a rich sauce — 
no, you musn't touch that." Then, seeing that Sancho 
was casting longing eyes at a mixed stew, called olla 
podrida, the national dish of Spain, he shook his head 
emphatically, and said, " I forbid it ! The olla may do 
for some pursy canon, or some gross-feeding farmer ; but 
it is the worst possible diet for a Governor's stomach. 
What I recommend is a few slices of quince, cut very 
thin, and eaten with a little light biscuit." 

Thus touched in his tenderest place, and condemned to 
starve in the midst of abundance, Sancho fell into a violent 
passion, and leaping from his seat, he shook his fist at the 
physician, and shouted, " Out of my sight, rascal, or I'll 
take this chair and make it fly into splinters on thy head ! 
And if I am called to account for it by the Duke, I'll 
say that I have done a service to the State, by ridding it 
of a rogue and a quacksalver. If I'm not to eat, I'll be 
Governor no more, and there's an end of it." 

Sancho would probably have put his threat into execu- 
tion, but just at this moment his attention was called 
away by the arrival of a courier with despatches from the 
Duke. The secretary, who was ordered to open the 
packet, declared that the contents were of a private 
nature ; hearing which the Governor ordered all the attend- 



208 Stories from Don Quixote 

ants, with the doctor, to leave the room, and as soon as 
he was alone with his confidential advisers, made a sign 
to the secretary that he was to read out the letter, which 
ran as follows : — 

" I have received information, Don Sancho Panza, 
that certain enemies of mine have planned a furious 
assault on your Island, within a few nights from now. It 
behoves you to keep watch, and to be on the alert, that 
they may not take you unawares. Furthermore, I have 
been warned by my spies, whose report I can trust, that 
four men have entered the town in disguise, to take your 
life. Keep your eyes open, and beware of all who seek 
an audience with you, and eat nothing which they set before 
you. Act according to your own excellent judgment, and 
rely on my support. The Duke." 

14 So they would murder me, would they ? " cried 
Sancho, when he had heard the letter. " Go to, I defy 
them — spies and assassins and all. But I'll not be 
poisoned either. Let them take away these victuals, 
and bring me three or four pounds of grapes, which 
cannot serve to convey poison." 

But Sancho's tormentors had not done with him yet. 
They had played on his fears, they had punished his 
gluttony, and now they attacked him on the side of his 
avarice. He was just going to satisfy his hunger, as well 
as he could, by filling himself up with grapes, when a 
page announced that there was a man waiting outside 
desiring to speak with the Governor on urgent business. 

44 Is this the time for business ? " asked Sancho testily. 
44 Do they think that I am made of stone and iron that 



Sancho and His Isle 209 

they won't give me a moment's peace ? Well, let the 
fellow come in, but see that he is not one of those 
murderers." 

"No, my lord," answered the page, "he is a simple, 
honest fellow, who wouldn't hurt a fly." With that he 
ushered in the man, who seemed by his appearance to be 
a well-to-do farmer. " Which is the Governor ? " he 
asked, staring round vacantly ; and, being informed, he 
dropped on his knees before Sancho, and sought to 
kiss his hand. Sancho bade him rise and state his 
business. 

" My lord," said the peasant, standing up, " I am a 
widower with two sons, one of whom, who is a student, 
has a sweetheart named Clara, the daughter of a neigh- 
bour of mine. A rare beauty she is, and does credit to 
the lad's taste : she has eyes like jewels — I should say an 
eye, for she has but one, having lost the other by the 
smallpox, which left her face full of pits, like so many 
graves of her lovers' hearts. Her nose is like Cubit's l 
bow, for it is so cocked up that it looks as if it were 
running away from her mouth, which, saving that it wants 
a dozen teeth, is the largest and finest mouth you ever 
saw. Then, as to tallness and straightness, no poplar 
tree could match her were it not that she has a hunch on 
her back as big as a house." 

" A rare picture, indeed," remarked Sancho, " but what 
is all this to me ? " 

" I beg your lordship," answered the man, " to give me 
a letter of recommendation to the girl's father, asking his 
consent to the marriage, for the parties are well matched 
in person and in fortune. My son is a sweet lad, with 

1 I.e. Cupid : see Shakspeare, Midsummer Nighfs Dream. 



210 Stories from Don Quixote 

the temper of an angel, only he is subject to fits, and 
when the evil spirit masters him tears and batters himself 
like a fiend ; and once he fell into the fire, which has 
somewhat marred his comeliness. In all else he is a very 
saint. Oh, they are a pretty pair ! " 

" Is this what you came to tell me ? " asked Sancho. 

11 Well, not altogether," answered the peasant, shuffling 
with his feet ; " there's just a trifle besides — only I hardly 
dare to mention it — but there, Til out with it, or it will 
stick in my throat and choke me. Could your honour 
give me three hundred ducats — or say six hundred — -to 
help the young people to set up housekeeping ? " 

" Are you sure that is all ? " said Sancho, with a 
peculiar grin. 

" Yes, sir, that is all," answered the other. 

" Then hear me, Don Clodhopper ! " roared Sancho, 
springing to his feet, and clutching the chair on which he 
had been sitting. "If you don't take yourself off this 
instant, with this chair 111 let daylight into that skull of 
yours. Six hundred ducats ! Where should I get them 
from when I have been but a day and a half in this 
government ? And why should I give them to you if I 
had them ? Out of my sight, I say ! " 

At a sign from the steward the man slunk off, pre- 
tending to be horribly frightened by Sancho's menaces. 
In reality he was only playing a part in which he had been 
carefully schooled by the Duke's agents, with the object 
of working on Sancho's temper, already sorely chafed by 
the loss of his dinner. And so this trying day came to 
an end ; and to make him some amends for his long fast, 
at supper-time they brought him a dish of cold beef, 
onions, and boiled calves' feet, well salted and pickled in 



Sancho and His Isle 211 

oil and vinegar. As the meat was a little rank with 
overkeeping, Sancho found it very much to his taste, and 
declared that he had never eaten anything with greater 
relish in his life. 



Ill 



Alas for Sancho ! and alas for the vanity of human 
hopes ! His period of office lasted but for one short 
week, and long before that time was completed he had 
learnt the great truth that the seat of the ruler is stuffed 
with thorns. Every day he was made the victim of some 
new prank. He rose early, and went to bed late, and 
toiled incessantly at the mock duties of his governorship, 
making laws, reforming abuses, settling disputes, and 
hearing petitions. And, most cruel of all, he was never 
allowed to eat his fill, but lived chiefly on the smell of the 
savoury viands, which were, for the most part, snatched 
away before he had had time to taste them. 

The seventh day had passed like the others, with heavy 
labour and light diet, and Sancho, worn out with fatigue, 
had just fallen into an uneasy slumber, when he heard an 
uproar of bells ringing and voices shouting, so loud that 
it seemed as if the whole island were about to founder. 
He sat up in bed and listened — the noise grew louder, 
and was now increased by a fearful din of trumpets and 
drums. In wild alarm he tumbled out of bed, thrust his 
feet, into his slippers, and, without waiting to put on any 
other garment, shuffled out into the passage, clad in 
nothing but his shirt. In an instant he was surrounded 
by mere than twenty men, carrying lighted torches and 
drawn swords, and all bawling together at the top of their 



212 Stories from Don Quixote 

voices : " To arms, my Lord Governor, to arms ! A 
countless host of enemies has invaded the island, and 
nothing but your courage and resource can save us from 
ruin." 

Sancho stood gaping, stunned by the commotion and 
blinded by the glare, and before he knew what had hap- 
pened, they brought a pair of antique shields, with which 
they covered him up from head to foot, before and behind, 
bracing them firmly together with cords. The shields 
were cut away at the sides, so as to leave his arms free ; 
but the rest of his person was trussed up as stiff and 
straight as a ramrod, so that he could not bend his knees 
or move a single step. Then one of them put a spear in 
his hands, and they all cried ; " On, my Lord Governor, 
on ! Lead us to victory, thou pole-star and beacon and 
lantern to our footsteps ! n 

" How the mischief am I to lead you ? " asked the 
unhappy Sancho, leaning on his spear to keep himself 
from falling. " These boards are so glued to me that 
they leave no play to my knee-caps." 

" Forward, sir," said one of the party. " Don't play 
the coward ! The enemy are increasing, and the danger 
is imminent." 

Overborne by their clamour, the poor Governor tried 
to take a step forwards, and instantly fell flat on his face, 
jarring every bone in his body. There he lay like a 
tortoise imprisoned in his shell, or like a flitch of bacon 
between two butcher's trays, or like a boat turned bottom 
up on the beach. His persecutors now extinguished their 
torches, and shouting, " The enemy are upon us ! " began 
leaping to and fro over the prostrate governor, and slash- 
ing at the shield with their swords, so that Sancho was 



Sancho and His Isle 213 

compelled to curl himself up, like a snail, inside his defences, 
where he lay, sweating with terror, and calling on all the 
saints to deliver him from that dreadful strait. One of 
the crew posted himself on the top of him, and shouted, 
as if he were directing the defence from a watch-tower : 
" This way to the rescue ! Here the attack is hottest ! 
Defend that postern ! Make fast that gate ! Block the 
staircase ! Bring hand-grenades, pitch, resin, and burning 
oil ! Barricade the streets with mattresses ! " 

At last, when Sancho was praying for death to make 
an end of his torments, he heard loud cries of " Victory, 
victory ! They run : they run. Arise, Lord Governor, 
and share the triumph, and divide the spoils won by your 
invincible arm ! " 

" Help me to get up," said Sancho, in quavering tones. 
They set him on his feet, and, when they had uncased 
him, he tottered into his bedroom, and sat down on the 
bed, where he fainted away from sheer terror and exhaus- 
tion. When he came to himself, he looked at his 
tormentors, who were somewhat ashamed at the effects of 
their frolic, and asked what time it was. They told him 
that day was breaking, and, without answering a word, he 
began, with pain and difficulty, to dress himself. As soon 
as he was ready, he walked slowly out of the room, and 
they, wondering at his silence, followed to see what he 
would do. He made his way to the stable, and, going up 
to his Dapple, he threw his arms round his neck, kissed 
him, on the forehead, and said, with tears in his eyes, 
" Come to me, friend and companion, that hast ever shared 
with me my burdens of labour or of woe ! As long as I 
lived in fellowship with thee, thinking only how to find 
food for thy little body, and keep thy trappings in order, 



214 Stories from Don Quixote 

happy were my hours, my days, and my years. But 
since I left thee, to ascend the towers of pride and ambi- 
tion, a thousand miseries, a thousand vexations, and four 
thousand disquietudes, have invaded my soul ! " 

Talking thus, he saddled and bridled the ass, and 
having mounted with painful effort (for he was aching in 
every joint), he turned to the steward, secretary, and the 
rest of the group, and said to them : " Let me pass, sirs, 
if you please. I am going back to my old free life, for 
that which I have led here is a living death. I have 
learnt my lesson. Not for governorships was I born, 
nor for beating off assaults from islands and cities. I 
shall sleep better, wrapped in my winter sheepskin, or 
under a shady tree in summer, than ever I did between 
sheets of fine linen, with care for my bedfellow. Better 
a dinner of herbs which I may eat unrebuked, than a table 
loaded with rich meats, which I am forbidden to touch. 
I go first to tell the Duke that he may take back the 
office which he bestowed on me. With clean hands I 
received it, and with clean hands I lay it down, not richer 
by one farthing than when I came. I would that all 
Governors could say as much." 

Then, turning a deaf ear to all their arguments and 
entreaties, he touched Dapple with his heel, and rode out 
of the yard, leaving the Duke's creatures dumbfoundered 
by the artless eloquence of his language, and by the 
firmness, self-restraint, and quiet dignity of his behaviour. 



Don Quixote's Last Battle 
i 

WHEN Sancho returned to the castle, he was 
warmly welcomed by the Duke, who had re- 
ceived a full report of all that had happened 
in Barataria, and was highly delighted with the success 
of his joke. On the next day Don Quixote asked leave 
to take his departure, as he had resolved to be present 
at a great tournament which was shortly to be held at 
Barcelona. He was dismissed with many regrets by his 
noble hosts, and early on the following morning he started, 
accompanied by Sancho, on the last stage of his wanderings. 

During all the time of this stay at the castle, Don 
Quixote had been somewhat depressed, feeling out of his 
element, and chafing at the position of dependence in 
which he was placed. His spirits rose in proportion when 
he found himself once more a free man ; and Sancho was 
in no less cheerful mood, having been made happy by the 
Duke with a well-filled purse of gold. 

As they jogged along contentedly together, Don Quixote, 
who was ever ready to draw a moral from his experience, 
said to Sancho : " Liberty, Sancho, is one of the choicest 
boons which Heaven has given to men, a fairer jewel than 
any which earth conceals, or ocean covers. Without 
liberty, life itself is a burden and a curse. In yonder 
castle I was surrounded by everything which can flatter 

215 



216 Stories from Don Quixote 

and delight the senses ; yet in the midst of those delicate 
banquets and wines cooled with snow I felt an inward 
hunger, for I could not forget that I owed all this luxury 
to the bounty of another. I would rather have a morsel 
of bread, eaten in liberty, than the most savoury dishes, 
flavoured with the bitter sauce of obligation." 

" That is very fine," replied Sancho. " But nevertheless 
we ought to be grateful for two hundred gold crowns, 
presented to me by the Duke's steward — a most comfort- 
able breast-protector, which I carry in a little purse nearest 
my heart to meet our occasions. We can't always be 
lodged in castles ; sometimes we shall come across an inn, 
where we are regaled with bludgeons." 

II 

On the sixth day after leaving the castle, our travellers 
found themselves overtaken by darkness, and were obliged 
to take up their quarters for the night in a grove of cork- 
trees, not far from the road. As Sancho was groping 
about in the thicket, seeking a smooth place to lie down 
in, his head struck against something, and feeling with his 
hands, he found that it was a pair of booted legs, hanging 
from a tree. Trembling with terror, he went a little 
further, and came upon another pair of dangling legs. 
" Help, master ! " he cried in a panic of alarm. " These 
trees are all full of human feet and legs ! " Don Quixote 
came up to him, and feeling about him, perceived at once 
what had happened. " There is nothing to be frightened 
at," he said. " These legs belong, no doubt, to some 
robbers and outlaws, who have been caught red-handed, 
and hanged up here by the officers of justice." 



Don Quixote's Last Battle 217 

As may be supposed, they slept little that night ; and 
at daybreak they saw that half the trees were laden 
with that hideous crop. As they were preparing to con- 
tinue their journey, they were suddenly surrounded by a 
troop of more than forty live robbers, who called to them 
in the Catalan dialect to remain where they were and wait 
for the captain, who had not yet arrived. Being taken 
by surprise, on foot, and without his lance, Don Quixote 
was compelled to submit, and stood leaning, with crossed 
arms, against a tree, while the brigands, after rummaging 
in Dapple's saddle-bags, fell to work on Sancho, whom 
they would have stripped to his skin, if they had not been 
interrupted by the arrival of their captain. He was a man 
in the prime of life, above the middle stature, dark-com- 
plexioned, and grave of feature. He was mounted on a 
powerful horse, and wore a shirt of chain-armour, with 
four pistols, called petronels, 1 hanging at his belt. 

At a sign from their captain, the brigands left off rifling 
Sancho, whose two hundred crowns thus escaped detection. 
Then the robber-chieftain went up to Don Quixote, whose 
appearance filled him with wonder, and said to him cour- 
teously : " Take heart, good friend, for you have not fallen 
into the hands of a monster, but into the hands of Roque 
Guinart, more famed for mercy than for cruelty." 

" Brave Roque," answered Don Quixote, " I am sad- 
dened to think of my own want of vigilance, which has 
caused me to be taken unawares. If I had been found 
by your men on horseback, with shield on arm, and lance 
in rest, no force could have overpowered me, as you will 
easily believe, when I tell you that I am Don Quixote de 
la Mancha, of whose fame the whole world is full." 

1 With flint-locks. 
Q 



218 Stories from Don Quixote 

It was a strange pair which had been thus brought by- 
chance together — the mad knight-errant, and the high- 
minded brigand. For this Roque was no common robber, 
but a man of birth and education, who had been driven 
by oppression into irregular courses, and whose lawless 
life was in some measure redeemed by many acts of 
generosity and kindness. This gallant outlaw was 
highly pleased to make Don Quixote's acquaintance, 
having already heard something of his singular infatua- 
tion ; and he determined to keep the knight with him for 
a few days, and divert himself by studying the whims of 
so extraordinary a character. He intimated his wish to 
Don Quixote, and promised at the same time to send a 
message to a friend in Barcelona, which would secure to 
the knight and his squire a warm reception, on their 
arrival in that city. Don Quixote accepted the invita- 
tion, which indeed he was hardly in a position to refuse ; 
and for the next three days he and Sancho followed the 
movements of the robber band, advancing slowly, by cross- 
roads and byways, to the outskirts of Barcelona. Here 
they bade farewell to the gallant outlaw, and passing 
through the gates, entered the main thoroughfare of the 
busy seaport town. 

Ill 

The gentleman to whose care Don Quixote had been 
recommended by Roque was a certain Don Antonio 
Moreno, a man of rank and fortune, whose house was a 
favourite resort for the best society of Barcelona. He 
readily fell in with the humours of his eccentric guest, and 
for some days Don Quixote became the centre of a gay 
and witty circle, who treated him with mock reverence, 



Don Quixote's Last Battle 219 

and fooled him to the top of his bent. He, poor man, 
exulted in their pretended homage, receiving it as a proper 
tribute to his high merit. Sancho was not less popular 
than his master, especially among the servants, who were 
kept in perpetual laughter by his drolleries. Thus both 
knight and squire were, for a short time, in their element. 

This was the highest point in Don Quixote's fortunes. 
It mattered nothing to him that the honours paid him 
were but a grotesque caricature of that high renown which 
had been the dream of his life. To him the hollow 
pageant was a sober reality ; he took the fool's-cap which 
was held out to him, and set it on his brows, as if it had 
been a crown of glory. But the moment was at hand which 
was destined to shatter the flimsy fabric of his greatness, 
and leave him sitting in despair among the ruins. 

One morning, as he was riding, fully armed, in the 
suburbs of Barcelona, he saw coming towards him a knight 
in complete armour, who bore on his shield the device of 
a full moon. As soon as he was within hearing, he drew 
up, and cried in a loud voice to Don Quixote : " Illustrious 
knight, whose renown transcends the power of language, 
Don Quixote de la Mancha, I am the Knight of the White 
Moon, known to thee, perhaps, already by his unutterable 
deeds. I come to prove the might of thine arm in mortal 
combat, with purpose to make thee acknowledge and con- 
fess that my lady — whoever she may be — is beyond com- 
pare more lovely than Dulcinea del Toboso. If thou wilt 
admit this truth without reserve, thy life shall be spared, 
and I shall be saved the pain of taking it ; but if thou art 
resolved to fight, then I require of thee a promise that in 
the event of thy defeat thou wilt return to thy village and 
live there for the space of one year in peace and quietness, 



220 Stories from Don Quixote 

without attempting any knightly adventure until that term 
is passed. If I fail, thou art free to dispose of me as seems 
to thee best, and the fame of my deeds will henceforth be 
thine. Reflect before thou answerest, but decide promptly, 
for time presses, and to-morrow I have other work to do." 

Don Quixote was astonished at the presumption of the 
White Knight, and not less so at the motive of his defiance ; 
but he answered with sternness and composure : " Knight 
of the White Moon, of whose deeds I have heard nothing 
until to-day, I will make you swear that you have never 
seen the illustrious Dulcinea, for if you had seen her you 
could never have been so deluded as to dispute the pre- 
eminence of her beauty. I accept your challenge, omitting 
only the condition that the fame of your deeds is to be 
mine, for I know not of what quality they are, and I am 
satisfied with my own. Take your ground where it suits 
you best, and I will do the same ; and let Heaven decide 
the issue, and St Peter bless it ! " 

It happened at this moment that the chief magistrate of 
Barcelona came riding that way with a large company of 
gentlemen and attendants, among whom were Don Antonio, 
Don Quixote's host, and Sancho, who had come out to look 
for his master. Seeing two cavaliers about to engage in 
mortal combat, he enquired what was the cause of their 
quarrel, and the Knight of the Moon explained that it was 
a dispute concerning the rival beauties. The magistrate 
was well acquainted with Don Quixote's madness, which 
was now the common talk of Barcelona ; and supposing 
that this was some new jest contrived at the poor knight's 
expense, he allowed the combat to proceed, and stood by 
to see the issue. 

The two combatants then rode apart, to take ground for 



Don Quixote's Last Battle 221 

their career, and drawing rein at the same instant, they 
wheeled their horses and charged at full speed against each 
other. But before Don Quixote had covered a third of the 
distance, the White Knight, who was mounted on a power- 
ful and active horse, was upon him, and without touching 
him with his lance, by the mere shock of the collision, 
bore Rozinante and his rider to the ground. Then, point- 
ing his lance at the fallen knight's vizor, he said : " You 
have lost the battle, knight, and will lose your life also 
unless you confess, as was settled in the terms of the 
challenge." 

In faint and hollow tones, like a voice from the tomb, 
came Don Quixote's answer : " Strike and slay me, for I 
will never confess that Dulcinea is not the loveliest woman 
on earth." 

" That is not necessary/' answered the victor ; " all I 
desire is that the great Don Quixote shall go home to his 
village, and remain there for a year, or until such time as 
I shall appoint." 

" So that you demand nothing," replied Don Quixote 
" to the prejudice of Dulcinea, in all else I will obey you. 

Having exacted the promise, the Knight of the Moon 
reined back his steed, and after bowing low to the magis- 
trate, cantered off towards the city. Don Quixote, who 
was much shattered by his fall, was conveyed to his host's 
residence in a litter ; and Sancho followed like one in a 
dream, wondering whether these things were what they 
seemed, or mere glamour and illusion. 

Don Antonio was most curious to know the name 
and condition of the cavalier who had overthrown Don 
Quixote ; accordingly, after attending to the injured 
man's comfort, he went out to make inquiries, and with- 



222 Stories from Don Quixote 

out much difficulty found the inn where the Knight of the 
Moon, as he called himself, was staying. Don Antonio 
introduced himself, explained that he was interested in 
Don Quixote, and begged the champion who had gained 
so easy a victory to say who he was, and what had 
induced him to take up that quarrel. Then the truth 
came out : the Knight of the White Moon was no other 
than our old friend, the Bachelor Samson Carrasco, who 
has already appeared as a knight-errant, under the title 
of the Knight of the Mirrors. After recovering from the 
injuries received in his first encounter with Don Quixote, 
he resolved once more to try the chances of a contest, with 
the same charitable purpose as before ; and being this time 
much better mounted and equipped, he was completely 
successful, as we have seen. " For I have no fear," he 
concluded, " that Don Quixote will fail to keep his 
promise, He is the very soul of honour, and his word is 
his bond. I must beg you, however, not to breathe a 
word of this to our friend, for if he learns who I am, it 
might interfere with the recovery of his reason, which was 
my sole object in taking the field against him." 

" Alas, sir ! " answered Don Antonio ; " what have you 
done ? Do you not see that one mad Don Quixote is 
worth more than twenty Don Quixotes sane? If you 
succeed, you will have eclipsed the gaiety ! of a whole 
nation, and sealed up the fairest fountain of mirth that 
ever flowed in Spain. And in losing Don Quixote, we 
shall lose Sancho also, for one is nothing without the 
other." Nevertheless, he pledged himself not to betray 
the Bachelor's confidence, and after some further conver- 
sation they parted. 
1 This famous expression was first used by Johnson on the death of Garrick. 



At Rest 

i 

AS soon as Don Quixote was in a condition to 
travel, he left Barcelona, and advancing by very 
easy stages arrived in a few days at his native 
village. Tidings of his approach had gone before him 
and on entering his own house he found all his friends 
assembled there to receive him. There also was Sancho' s 
wife, with her daughter Sanchica. " Thou lookest not 
like a governor, Sancho," said the good woman, eyeing 
him from head to foot. " Never mind looks," answered 
Sancho with a knowing wink ; " I've got something 
here " — slapping his pocket — " which is better than looks 
— money, lass, money." " And what hast thou brought 
for me, father ? " asked Sanchica. " Wait till we get home, 
and thou shalt see," replied her father. " Come along, 
then," said the girl, and taking the little man between 
them, they dragged him off in high good humour to his 
own cottage. 

Not long after leaving the Duke's castle Don Quixote 
had fallen in with a gay company of youths and maidens, 
who were diverting themselves by masquerading as shep- 
herds and shepherdesses ; and after his defeat by the 
Knight of the Moon, he thought that it would be a fine 
thing to turn shepherd himself, and spend the time of his 
enforced seclusion in tending his sheep, tuning the rural 



224 Stories from Don Quixote 

pipe in praise of Dulcinea, and cutting her name on the 
bark of the trees. He now gravely communicated his 
design to the Priest, the Barber, and Samson Carrasco, 
and invited them to go with him to the flowery land of 
Arcady. And they, thinking that an out-door life would 
be good for his health, highly applauded his proposal, 
though they could hardly contain their laughter, when 
they thought of the gaunt and grizzled knight in the 
character of an amorous Corydon. 

Very different were the feelings of his niece and 
housekeeper, who had overheard this conversation, and as 
soon as the visitors were gone, they began to stun him with 
their clamour. " What is this, uncle ? " cried the niece ; 
" here were we hoping that you had come home to lead a 
quiet and respectable life, and hardly have you crossed your 
threshold when you talk of going off to new crooked 
courses, with your Gentle shepherd, tell me where ? — and 
such like stuff. Shepherd, indeed, at your time of life ! 
What boy would take a cracked and withered reed to 
make a pipe of? " 

The housekeeper, who knew nothing of a poetical 
Arcadia, tried to scare him with a rude picture of the 
shepherd's real life, as she knew it, a life full of hardship, 
privation, and peril. " This is work," she said, " for hardy 
peasants, bred from their infancy to endure exposure and 
scanty fare. Be guided by me, sir, who have not lived 
fifty years for nothing : stay at home, attend to your 
estate, go often to confession, relieve the poor, and if ill 
comes of it, may it fall on my own head ! " 

" Enough, my daughters ! " said Don Quixote, when he 
had heard them out ; " I know my duty, without your 
telling me. Let me go to bed, for I do not feel very 



At Rest 225 

well ; and doubt not that whether I be knight-errant or 
roving shepherd I shall remember to provide for you." 



II 



When the housekeeper went to see her master next 
morning she was much concerned to find that he was sick 
of a fever ; and he remained in the same state for several 
days, during which he was constantly visited by his friends, 
while the faithful Sancho never left his bed-side. What 
alarmed them most was his deep despondency ; for he 
seemed to have lost all hold on life. Thinking that he 
was brooding over his defeat they did all they could to 
raise his spirits, and divert his mind to more cheerful 
topics. The bachelor reminded him of his intention to 
adopt the pastoral life, and said that he himself had already 
purchased two famous sheep-dogs out of his own pocket ; 
and the priest and barber both exerted themselves to rouse 
the sick man from his torpor, but all to no purpose. They 
called in a doctor, who felt his pulse, looked grave, and 
said that the patient had better look to the health of his 
soul, for, as to his body, there was not much hope for that. 
Don Quixote received his verdict with great composure ; 
but Sancho, the niece, and the housekeeper began to weep 
bitterly, as if he were already lying dead before them. 
The doctor gave it as his opinion that he was dying of 
sorrow and vexation. Don Quixote begged them to leave 
him alone, as he felt disposed to sleep. They did so, and 
he fell into a deep sleep, which lasted for more than six 
hours. His niece and housekeeper were growing anxious, 
fearing that he would die in his sleep, when suddenly they 



226 Stories from Don Quixote 

heard him cry in a loud voice: " I give thanks to Almighty 
God, who hath bestowed on me so great a blessing ! His 
mercy is without end, nor can the sins of men set bounds 
to it." 

The women hastened to his bed-side, and his niece 
asked him what special instance of divine mercy had 
drawn from him that strange cry ? 

" The mercy of God," answered Don Quixote, " hath 
descended upon me in this very hour, bringing back to 
me my reason, and scattering the midnight blackness of 
ignorance which closed me round, by reason of my un- 
happy passion for those vile books of chivalry. Yes, I see 
now that these books are compounded of folly and delusion, 
and I only regret that my eyes have been opened too late, 
leaving me no time to atone for my fault by reading others 
which might be the light of my soul. Child, I feel myself 
at the point of death ; and I would not have it said of me 
that I died in my madness. Go, summon my good friends, 
the priest, the Bachelor, Samson Carrasco, and Master 
Nicholas, the Barber ; for I wish to confess, and make 
my will." 

The young lady went out to do her uncle's bidding, but 
returned immediately, ushering in the three friends, who 
had just arrived. Don Quixote's face lighted up when he 
saw them, and he said : " Dear friends, I have good news 
for you : no longer am I Don Quixote de la Mancha, 
but Alonso Quijano, 1 whose life and conduct earned him 
the name of the Good. Now I am the enemy of Amadis 
of Gaul and of all his endless line ; now I detest all the 
profane histories of knight-errantry ; now I recognise 
my folly, and the peril in which I have been placed by 

1 This is the first time that Don Quixote is mentioned by his real name. 



At Rest 227 

reading them. By the mercy of God I have learnt this 
lesson, though at a heavy price." 

Hearing him speak thus, his friends at first thought 
that his malady had entered on a new phase. " This will 
never do," whispered the priest to Carrasco, " we shall 
have him turning religious maniac, the most dangerous 
of all madmen." Wishing, if possible, to avert such a 
calamity, they rallied him playfully about his seriousness, 
and strove to lead his thoughts back to the old channel. 
Don Quixote reproved them gently for this levity : " No 
more," he said, " of these past follies ; it is ill jesting with 
a dying man. Let my good friend the priest hear my 
confession, and meanwhile let someone go for a notary to 
draw up my will." 

His tone was so calm, and his look so mild, that all 
who heard him were at length convinced of his sanity ; 
and believing that only the approach of death could have 
wrought this miracle, they hastened to carry out his 
directions. The priest remained alone with Don Quixote, 
and confessed him, while the Bachelor went to summon 
the notary. Sancho, whom he met on the way, came 
back with him, and when he saw the two women in tears 
his face puckered, and he began to cry very heartily. 

Having heard Don Quixote's confession, the priest 
entered the room where the others were waiting. " He is 
dying," said the good man, " there is no doubt of it — he 
is dying, and he is sane. When the notary comes, we 
will. go in and witness his will." 

This announcement was followed by a fresh burst of 
weeping from the housekeeper, the niece, and Sancho, who, 
hearing that there was no hope, gave vent to their sorrow 
with sobs and heart-broken cries. For never was there a 



228 Stories from Don Quixote 

kinder master or a better friend than this Alonso Quijano, 
or Don Quixote de la Mancha, and by his gentle manners 
and placid temper he had made himself beloved among 
all who knew him. 

The notary having arrived, they all went with him into 
Don Quixote's room, and after the preamble to the will 
had been drawn up in the usual form, he proceeded to 
the disposal of his property. The principal bequests 
were as follows : — 

" To Sancho, whom in my madness I made my squire, 
I bequeath whatever is left of the moneys belonging to 
me which he has in his charge, without any deduction or 
abatement whatsoever. And as, when I was mad, I 
helped to make him Governor of the Isle, so, now, being 
sane, I would give him the government of a kingdom, if 
it were in my power, for the simplicity of his heart, and 
the loyalty of his conduct, deserve no less." 

When he reached this point, Don Quixote turned to 
Sancho, and said : " Forgive me, good friend, for leading 
thee astray, and making thee believe that there are, or 
were, knights-errant in the world." 

" Woe's me ! " cried Sancho, weeping pitifully, " don't 
die, dear master, but take my advice and live many years, 
for what greater madness can a man commit, than to let 
himself die of melancholy, without anyone else having a 
hand in it ? Come, sir, don't you be lazy, but get up 
and come and play at shepherds with me, as we agreed. 
Who knows but we may find the lady Dulcinea behind 
some hedge, disenchanted, and as grand as you please ? 
If it is the thought of your defeat which is dragging you 
down to your grave, lay the blame on me — say that I 
left Rozinante's girths loose, and that's why you were un- 



At Rest 229 

seated. Besides, you know that the best knights some- 
times get a fall, and the vanquished to-day may be the 
victor to-morrow." 

" That is true/' remarked Carrasco, " and our good 
Sancho takes a very just view of the case." 

" Gentlemen," said Don Quixote, " let us not go too 
fast, or expect to find last year's birds in this year's nests. 
Remember that you are talking, not to Don Quixote the 
madman, but to Alonso Quijano the Good, now happily 
restored to his senses, and reinstated, I hope, in your 
respect." Then he made a sign to the notary, and went 
on dictating his will : 

" To my niece, Antonia Quijano, I give and bequeath 
the whole of my estate, after payment of the sum which 
is due to my housekeeper as salary for the years in which 
she has served me, with twenty ducats besides for a dress. 
As my executors I appoint the priest of my parish, and 
the Bachelor Samson Carrasco, charging them that if my 
niece, the said Antonia Quijano, should ever desire to 
marry, she must choose as her husband one who does not 
know what books of chivalry are : in the contrary case, 
the whole amount of my bequest shall be taken from her, 
and employed in works of charity." 

These were the chief clauses in Don Quixote's will ; 
and when it was duly signed and witnessed, Don Quixote 
fell back exhausted in his bed, and lay for some time in 
a swoon. He lived for three days longer, during which 
he passed rapidly from one fainting fit into another. In 
his brief intervals of consciousness he conversed cheerfully 
with his friends, and repeatedly denounced with great 
eloquence the vile books which had been his undoing. 
On the third day, after receiving the sacrament, he passed 



230 Stories from Don Quixote 

quietly away, at peace with Heaven and with all 
mankind. 

Such was the life, and such the end, of Don Quixote 
de la Mancha, a man adorned with every virtue, and rich 
in the highest gifts of heart and brain. Led astray by 
one fatal error, he wasted all his noble powers, and made 
utter shipwreck of his life. Yet, even in the wildest 
flights of his frenzy, he kept his honour unstained ; and 
those who laughed at him most could not choose but love 
him. At the eleventh hour his eyes were opened, and 
he saw life in its true colours. But that fine spirit, 
which had conversed so long with shadows, was broken 
by the sudden contact with hard reality. He heard the 
voice of truth calling from beyond the grave, and turned 
his back on the world, awakened at last from his fevered 
dream by the great healer, Death. 



Pronouncing List 



Key to Special Sounds: a = a in "rat"; a = a in 
"father" ; i = / in "nick" ; 6 = or in "port" or 
au in "taut" ; oo = 00 in "mood" ; ou = ou in 
" loud " ; the letter h is absolutely silent in 
Spanish ; th = th in "thin". 



Aldonza Lorenzo 

Alfefiique . 

Alifanfaron 

Alquife 

Amadis 

Andres 

Antonomasia 

Arcalaus 

Argamasilla 

Azote . 

Barataria . 

Barcelona . 

Basilio 

Bavieca 

Belianis 

Brandabarbaran 

Cecial . 

Ciudad Real 

Clavija 

Clavileno . 

Corchuelo . 

Dorothea . 

Dulcinea . 

Esplandian 

Esquife 

Fierabras . 

Galatea 

Ginds de Pasamonte 



aldon'tha loren'tho. 
alfenyee'kay. 
alifanfaron'. 
alkee'fay. 
ama/dis. 
andrays'. 
antonomasee'a. 
arkala/us. 
argamasirya. 
atho'tay. 
barata'reea. 
barthaylo'na. 
basiryo. 
baviay'ka. 
belia'nis. 
brandabarbaran'. 
thaythial'. 
thioodad' rayal'. 
klavee'ha. 
klavilay'nyo. 
kortshooay'lo. 
dorotay'a. 
dulthinay'a. 
esplandian'. 
eskee'fay. 
feeayrabras'. 
galatay'a. 

heenay's day pasamon'tay. 
231 



232 



Stories from Don Quixote 



Guadarrama 


gooadara'ma. 


Haldudo 


aldoo'do. 


La Mancha 


la man'tsha. 


Laurcalco . 


lourkal'ko. 


Lucinda 


loothin'da. 


Maguncia . 


magun'theea. 


Malambruno 


malambroo'no. 


Mambrino . 


mambree'no. 


Maritornes . 


maritor'nes. 


Miaulina 


meeoulee'na. 


Micocolembo 


mikokolem'bo. 


Micomicona 


mikomiko'na. 


Montiel 


. . monteeayr. 


Nogales 


nogales'. 


Olla podrida 


ol'ya podree'da. 


Oriana 


oreea/na. 


Pandafibando 


pandafeeban'do. 


Panza . 


pan'tha. 


Pentapolin . 


pentapolin'. 


Puerto Lapice . 


pooayr'to lapi'thay. 


Quijada 


keeha'da. 


Quijano 


keehano. 


Ouiteria 


. keetay'reea. 


Quixote 


keeho'tay [generally pro- 




nounced kwik'sot in 




English]. 


Roncesvalles 


ronthesval'yes [or as French 




ronsval']. 


Roque Guinart . 


ro'kay gee'nart. 


Rozinante . 


rotheen'antay. 


Sanchica 


santshee'ka. 


Sancho 


san'tsho. 


Taprobana . 


taproba'na. 


Thermodon 


termodon' [but being Greek 




it is pronounced thermo- 




don in English]. 


Toboso 


tobo'so. 


Trifaldi . 


treefal'dee. 


Trifaldin . 


treefaldin'. 


Vargas 


vargas'. 



2 i 



/ 




hi™^ 0F C0 NGRESS 

liiiiiiiiiii . 

029 561 810 3 



